'f 


BR  758  .H6  1882 

Hood,  Edwin  Paxton,  1820- 

1885. 
The  great  revival  of  the 

f^  1  ah  tf^p*^"^  ^  /-•  o  >-> -^  11 -r  V 


THE 


GREAT   REVIVAL 


OF 


THE  EIGHTEENTH   CENTURY. 


BY 

REV.  EDWIN  PAXTON^HOOD, 

AUTHOR   OF 

^' Isaac  Watts :  his  Life  and  Writings,  his  Home  and  Friends, 
etc. 


With  a  Supplemental  Chapter  on  the  Revival  in  America. 


PHILADELPHIA : 

AMERICAN   SUNDAY-SCHOOL   XJNION, 

1182  Chestnut  Street. 

NEW  YORK.  CHICAGO. 


EDITOR'S  NOTE. 


jC^^v, 


The  only  changes  made  in  revising  this  work  are  in  the  local 
allusions  to  England  as  "our  country,"  etc.,  and  in  a  few 
phrases  and  expressions  naturally  arising  from  the  original  pre- 
paration of  the  chapters  for  successive  numbers  of  a  magazine. 
If  any  reader  thinks  that  the  Author's  enthusiasm  in  his  subject 
has  caused  him  to  ascribe  too  great  influence  to  the  "  Methodist 
movement,"  and  not  to  give  due  recognition  to  other  potent 
agencies  in  the  "  great  awakening"  of  the  last  century,  let  him 
remember  that  this  volume  does  not  profess  to  give  a  complete, 
but  only  a  partial  history  of  the  Great  Revival.  Indeed,  the 
Author's  graphic  pictures  relate  chiefly  to  the  movement,  as  it 
swept  over  London  and  the  great  mining  centres  of  England, 
where  the  truth,  as  proclaimed  by  the  great  leaders,  Whitefield, 
the  Wesleys,  and  their  co-laborers,  won  its  greatest  victories, 
and  where  Methodism  has  ever  continued  to  render  some  of  its 
most  valiant  and  glorious  services  for  Christ.  .  It  is  not  to  be 
inferred  that  in  Scotland,  Ireland,  and  in  the  American  colonies, 
as  in  many  portions  of  England,  other  organizations,  dissenting 
societies  and  churches  were  not  a  power  in  spreading  the  Great 
Revival  movement. 

A  brief  chapter  has  been  added  at  the  close,  sketching  some 
phases  of  the  revival  in  the  American  colonies,  under  the  labors 
of  Edwards,  Whitefield,  the  Tennents,  and  their  associates. 
Whatever  other  material  has  been  added  by  the  Editor  is  indi- 
cated by  brackets,  thus  leaving  the  distinguished  Author's  views 
and  expressions  intact. 

An  Index  has  also  been  added,  to  increase  the  permanent 
value  of  the  book  to  the  reader.  If  the  history  of  the  remark- 
able "religious  awakenings"  of  the  eighteenth  century  were 
more  diligently  studied,  and  the  holy  enthusiasm  and  wonderful 
zeal  of  those  great  leaders  in  "hunting  for  souls"  were  to 
inspire  workers  of  this  century,  what  marvellous  conquests  and 
victories  should  we  witness  for  the  Son  of  God  ! 
Philadelphia,  March,  1882. 


PREFACE. 


The  author  of  the  following  pages  begs  that 
they  may  be  read  kindly — and,  he  will  venture 
to  say,  not  critically.  Originally  published  as 
a  series  of  papers  in  the  Sunday  at  Homey  *  *  * 
they  are  only  Vignettes — etchings.  The  History 
of  the  great  Religious  Movement  of  the  Eight- 
eenth Century  yet  remains  unwritten  ;  not 
often  has  the  world  known  such  a  marvellous 
awakening  of  religious  thought ;  and,  as  we  are 
further  removed  in  time,  so,  perhaps,  we  are 
better  able  to  judge  of  the  momentous  circum- 
stances, could  we  but  seize  the  point  of  view. 


CONTENTS 


CHAP.  PAGE. 

I.    The  Darkness  Before  the  Dawn 7 

II.     First  Streaks  of  Dawn 24 

III.  Oxford  :  New  Lights  and  Old  Lanterns 48 

IV.  Cast  Out  from  the  Church — Taking  to  the 

Fields 68 

V.    The  Revival  Conservative 86 

VI.     The  Singers  of  the  Revival 109 

VII.    Lay  Preaching  and  Lay  Preachers 132 

vin.    A  Gallery  of  Revivalist  Portraits 154 

IX.    Blossoms  IN  THE  Wilderness 180 

X.    The  Revival  Becomes    Educational — Robert 

Raikes 193 

XI.     The  Romantic  Story  of  Silas  Told 216 

XII.    Missionary  Societies 250 

XIII.  Aftermath 260 

XIV.  Revival  in  the  New  World 281 

Appendix 303 

Index 


THE    GREAT   REVIVAL. 


CHAPTER  I. 

DARKNESS  BEFORE  DAWN. 

It  cannot  be  too  often  remembered  or  re- 
peated that  when  the  Bible  has  been  brought 
face  to  face  with  the  conscience  of  corrupt 
society,  in  every  age  it  has  shown  itself  to  be 
that  which  it  professes,  and  which  its  believers 
declare  it  to  be — ''  the  great  power  of  God."  It 
proved  itself  thus  amidst  the  hoary  'and  decay- 
ing corruptions  of  the  ancient  civilisation,  when 
its  truths  were  first  published  to  the  Roman 
Empire  ;  it  proclaimed  its  power  to  the  impure 
but  polished  society  of  Florence,  when  Savon- 
arola preached  his  wonderful  sermons  in  St. 
Mark's  ;  and  effected  the  same  results  through- 
out the  whole  German  Empire,  when  Bible 
truth  sounded  forth  from  Luther's  trumpet- 
tones.  The  same  principle  is  illustrated  where 
the  great  evangelical  truths  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment entered  nations,  as  in  Spain  or  France, 
only  to  be  rejected.     From  that  rejection  and 


8  The  Great  Revival. 

the  martyrdoms  of  the  first  believers  ;  those 
nations  have  never  recovered  themselves  even 
to  this  hour  ;  and  of  the  two  nations,  that  in 
which  the  rejection  was  the  most  haughty  and 
cruel,  has  suffered  most  from  its  renunciation. 

England  has  passed  through  three  great 
evangelical  revivals. 

The  first,  the  period  of  the  REFORMATION, 
whose  force  was  latent  there,  even  before  the 
waves  of  the  great  German  revolution  reached 
its  shores,  and  called  forth  the  pen  of  a  monarch, 
and  that  monarch  a  haughty  Tudor,  to  enter 
the  lists  of  disputation  with  the  lowly-born  son 
of  a  miner  of  Hartz  Mountains.  What  that 
Reformation  effected  in  England  we  all  very 
well  know  ;  the  changes  it  wrought  in  opinion, 
the  martyrs  who  passed  away  in  their  chariots 
of  fire  in  vindication  of  its  doctrines,  the  great 
writers  and  preachers  to  whose  works  and 
names  we  frequently  and  lovingly  refer. 

Then  came  the  second  great  evangelical 
revival,  the  period  of  PURITANISM,  whose 
central  interests  gather  round  the  great  civil 
wars.  This  was  the  time,  and  these  were  the 
opinions  which  produced  some  of  the  most 
massive  and  magnificent  writers  of  our  lan- 
guage ;  the  whole  mind  of  the  country  was 
stirred  to  its  deepest  heart  by  faith  in  those 
truths,  which  to  believe  enobles  human  nature. 


Darkness  before  Dawn.  9 

and  enables  it  to  endure  ''  as  seeing  Him  who 
is  invisible."  There  can  be  no  doubt  that  it 
produced  some  of  the  grandest  and  noblest 
minds,  whether  for  service  by  sword  or  pen,  in 
the  pulpit  or  the  cabinet,  that  the  world  has 
known.  Lord  Macaulay's  magnificently  glow- 
ing description  of  the  English  Puritan,  and  how 
he  attained,  by  his  evangelical  opinions,  his 
stature  of  strength,  will  be  familiar  to  all  read- 
ers who  know  his  essay  on  Milton. 

But  the  present  aim  is  to  gather  up  some  of 
the  facts  and  impressions,  and  briefly  to  recite 
some  of  the  influences  of  the  third  great  evangel- 
ical revival  in  the  Eighteenth  Century.  We 
are  guilty  of  no  exaggeration  in  saying  that 
these  have  been  equally  deserving  historic 
fame  with  either  of  the  preceding.  The  story 
has  less,  perhaps,  to  excite  some  of  our  most 
passionate  human  interests  ;  it  had  not  to  make 
its  way  through  stakes  and  scaffolds,  although 
it  could  recite  many  tales  of  persecution  ;  it 
unsheathed  no  sword,  the  weapons  of  its  war- 
fare were  not  carnal  ;  and  on  the  whole,  it 
maybe  said  its  doctrine  distilled  ''  as  the  dew;" 
yet  it  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  from  the  re- 
vival of  the  last  century  came  forth  that  won- 
derfully manifold  reticulation  and  holy  machin- 
ery of  piety  and  benevolence,  we  find  in  such 
active  operation  around  us  to-day. 

*  Appendix  A. 


10  The  Great  Revival. 

All  impartial  historians  of  the  period  place  this 
most  remarkable  religious  impulse  in  the  rank  of 
the  very  foremost  phenomena  of  the  times.  The 
calm  and  able  historian,  Earl  Stanhope,  speak- 
ing of  it,  as  **  despised  at  its  commencement," 
continues,  ''with  less  immediate  importance 
than  wars  or  political  changes,  it  endures  long 
after  not  only  the  result  but  the  memory  of 
these  has  passed  away,  and  thousands"  (his 
lordship  ought  to  have  said  millions)  "who 
never  heard  of  Fontenoy  or  Walpole,  continue 
to  follow  the  precepts,  and  venerate  the  name 
of  John  Wesley."  While  the  latest,  a  still  more 
able  and  equally  impartial  and  quiet  historian, 
Mr.  Lecky,  says,  ''Our  splendid  victories  by 
land  and  sea  must  yield  in  real  importance  to 
this  religious  revolution  ;  it  exercised  a  pro- 
found and  lasting  influence  upon  the  spirit  of 
the  Established  Church  of  England,  upon  the 
amount  and  distribution  of  the  moral  forces  of 
that  nation,  and  even  upon  the  course  of  its 
political  history." 

Shall  we,  then,  first  attempt  to  obtain  some 
adequate  idea  of  what  this  Revival  effected,  by 
a  sHght  effort  to  realise  what  sort  of  world  and 
state  of  society  it  was  into  which  the  Revival 
came  t  One  writer  truly  remarks,  "  Never  has 
century  risen  on  christian  England  so  void  of 
soul  and  faith  as  that  which  opened  with  Queen 


Darkness  before  Dawn.  ii 

Anne,  and  which  reached  its  misty  noon  be- 
neath the  second  George,  a  dewless  night  suc- 
ceeded by  a  dewless  dawn.  There  was  no 
freshness  in  the  past  and  no  promise  in  the 
future  ;  the  Puritans  were  buried,  the  Method- 
ists were  not  born."  It  is  unquestionably  true 
that  black,  bad  and  corrupt  as  society  was,  for 
the  most  part,  all  round,  in  the  eighteenth 
century,  intellectual  and  spiritual  forces  broke 
forth,  simultaneously  we  had  almost  said,  and 
believing,  as  we  do,  in  the  Providence  which 
governed  the  rise  of  both,  we  may  say,  consen- 
taneously, which  have  left  far  behind  all  social 
regenerations  which  the  pen  of  history  has  re- 
cited before.  Of  almost  all  the  fruits  we  enjoy, 
it  may  be  said  the  seeds  were  planted  then ; 
even  those  which,  like  the  printing-press  or  the 
gospel,  had  been  planted  ages  before,  were  so 
transplanted  as  to  flourish  with  a  new  vigour. 

Our  eye  has  been  taught  to  rest  on  an  inter- 
esting incident.  It  was  in  1757  John  Wesley, 
travelling  and  preaching,  then  about  fifty  years 
of  age,  but  still  with  nearly  forty  years  of  work 
before  him,  arrived  in  Glasgow.  He  saw  in  the 
University  its  library  and  its  pictures  ;  but,  had 
he  possessed  the  vision  of  a  Hebrew  seer  he 
might  have  glanced  up  from  the  quadrangle  of 
the  college  to  the  humble  rooms,  up  a  spiral 
staircase,  of  a  young   workman,   over  whose 


12  The  Great  Revival. 

lodging  was  the  sign  and  information  that 
they  were  tenanted  by  a  *'  mathematical  in- 
strument maker  to  the  University."  This  young 
man,  living  there  upon  a  poor  fare,  and  eking 
out  a  poor  subsistence,  with  many  thoughts 
burdening  his  mind,  was  destined  to  be  the 
founder  of  the  greatest  commercial  and  mate- 
rial revolution  the  world  has  known  :  through 
him  seems  to  have  been  fulfilled  the  wonder- 
fully significant  prophecy  of  Nahum :  "  The 
chariots  shall  rage  in  the  streets,  they  shall 
jostle  one  against  another  in  the  broad  ways  : 
they  shall  seem  like  torches,  they  shall  run 
like  the  lightnings."  This  young  man  was 
James  Watt,  who  gave  to  the  world  the  steam 
engine.  A  few  years  after  he  gave  his  mighty 
invention  to  Birmingham;  and  the  world  has 
never  been  the  same  world  since.  **  By  that 
invention,"  says  Emerson,  "  one  man  can  do  the 
work  of  two  hundred  and  fifty  men  ;"  and  in 
Manchester  alone  and  in  its  vicinity  there  are 
probably  sixty  thousand  boilers,  and  the  aggre- 
gate power  of  a  million  horses. 

Let  not  the  allusion  seem  out  of  place.  That 
age  was  the  seed-time  of  the  present  harvest 
fields  ;  in  that  time  those  great  religious  ideas 
which  have  wrought  such  an  astonishing  revo- 
lution, acquired  body  and  form  ;  and  we  ought 
to  notice  how,  when  God  sets  free  some  new 


Darkness  before  Daw7t.  13 

idea,  He  also  calls  into  existence  the  new  vehi- 
cle for  its  diffusion.  He  did  not  trust  the  early 
christian  faith  to  the  old  Latin  races,  to  the 
selfish  and  aesthetic  Greek,  or  to  the  merely- 
conservative  Hebrew  ;  He  *'  hissed,"  in  the 
graphic  language  of  the  old  Bible,  for  a  new 
race,  and  gave  the  New  Testament  to  the 
Teutonic  people,  who  have  ever  been  its  chief 
guardians  and  expositors  ;  and  thus,  in  all  re- 
views of  the  development  and  unfolding  of  the 
religious  life  in  the  times  of  which  we  speak, 
•  we  have  to  notice  how  the  material  and  the 
spiritual  changes  have  re-acted  on  each  other, 
while  both  have  brought  a  change  which  has 
indeed  *^  made  all  things  new." 

Contrasting  the  state  of  society  after  the  rise 
of  the  Great  Revival  with  what  it  was  before, 
the  present  with  the  past,  it  is  quite  obvious 
that  something  has  brought  about  a  general 
decency  and  decorum  of  manners,  a  tenderness 
and  benevolence  of  sentiment,  a  religious  inter- 
est in,  and  observance  of,  pious  usages,  not  to 
speak  of  a  depth  of  religious  life  and  conviction, 
and  a  general  purity  and  nobility  of  literary 
taste,  which  did  not  exist  before.  All  these 
must  be  credited  to  this  great  movement.  It  is 
not  in  the  nature  of  steam  engines,  whether 
stationary  or  locomotive,  nor  in  printing 
presses,  or  Staffordshire  potteries,  undirected 


14  The  Great  Revival, 

by  spiritual  forces,  to  raise  the  morals  or  to 
improve  the  manners  of  mankind. 

If  sometimes  in  the  presence  of  the  spectacles 
of  ignorance,  crime,  irreligion,  and  corruption 
in  our  own  day,  we  are  filled  with  a  sense  of 
despair  for  the  prospects  of  society,  it  may  be 
well  to  take  a  retrospect  of  what  society  was  in 
England  at  the  commencement  of  the  last  cen- 
tury. When  George  III.  ascended  the  throne 
the  population  of  England  was  not  much  over 
five  millions  ;  at  the  commencement  of  the 
present  century  it  was  nearly  eleven  millions  ; 
but  with  the  intensely  crowded  population  of 
the  present  day,  the  cancerous  elements  of  so- 
ciety, the  dangerous,  pauperised,  and  criminal 
classes  are  in  far  less  proportion,  not  merely 
relatively,  but  really.  It  was  a  small  country, 
and  possessed  few  inhabitants.  There  are  few 
circumstances  which  can  give  us  much  pleasure 
in  the  review.  National  distress  was  constantly 
making  itself  bitterly  felt  ;  it  was  the  age  of 
mobs  and  riots.  The  state  of  the  criminal  law 
was  cruel  in  the  extreme.  Blackstone  calcu- 
lates that  for  no  fewer  than  one  hundred  and 
sixty  offences,  some  of  them  of  the  most  frivo- 
lous description,  the  judge  was  bound  to  pro- 
nounce sentence  of  death.  Crime,  of  course, 
flourished.  During  the  year  1738  no  fewer 
than  fifty-two  criminals  were  hanged  at  Tyburn. 


Darkness  before  Dawn.  15 

During  that  and  the  preceding  years,  twelve 
thousand  persons  had  been  convicted,  within 
the  Bills  of  Mortality,  for  smuggling  gin  and 
selling  it  without  licence.  The  amusements  of 
all  classes  of  people  were  exactly  of  that  order 
calculated  to  create  a  cruel  disposition,  and 
thus  to  encourage  crime  ;  bear-baiting,  bull- 
baiting,  prize-fighting,  cock-fighting  :  on  a 
Shrove  Tuesday  it  was  dangerous  to  pass  down 
any  public  street.  This  was  the  day  selected 
for  the  barbarity  of  tying  a  harmless  cock  to  a 
stake,  there  to  be  battered  to  death  by  throw- 
ing a  stick  at  it  from  a  certain  distance.  The 
grim  humour  of  the  people  took  this  form  of 
expressing  the  national  hatred  to  the  French, 
from  the  Latin  name  for  the  cock,  Gallus.  It 
was  in  truth  a  barbarous  pun. 

With  abundant  wealth  and  means  of  happi- 
ness, the  people  fell  far  short  of  what  we  should 
consider  comfort  now.  Life  and  liberty  were 
cheap,  and  a  prevalent  Deism  or  Atheism  was 
united  to  a  wild  licentiousness  of  manners,  bru- 
talising  all  classes  of  society.  For  the  most 
part,  the  Church  of  England  had  so  shamefully 
forgotten  or  neglected  her  duty — this  is  admit- 
ted now  by  all  her  most  ardent  ministers — 
while  the  Noncomformists  had  sunk  generally 
into  so  cold  an  indifferentism  in  devotion,  and 
so  hard  and  sceptical  a  frame  in  theology,  that 


1 6  The  Great  Revival. 

every  interest  in  the  land  was  surrendered  to 
profligacy  and  recklessness,  and,  in  thoughtful 
minds,  to  despair.  Society  in  general  was 
spiritually  dead.  The  literature  of  England, 
with  two  or  three  famous  exceptions,  suffered  a 
temporary  eclipse.  Such  as  it  was,  it  was  per- 
verted from  all  high  purposes,  and  was  utterly 
alien  to  all  purity  and  moral  dignity.  A  good 
idea  of  the  moral  tone  of  the  times  might  be 
obtained  by  running  the  eye  over  a  few  vol- 
umes of  the  old  plays  of  this  period,  many  of 
them  even  written  by  ladies;  it  is  amazing  to 
us  now  to  think  not  only  that  they  could  be 
tolerated,  but  even  applauded.  The  gaols  were 
filled  with  culprits;  but  this  did  not  prevent  the 
heaths,  moors,  and  forests  from  swarming  with 
highwaymen,  and  the  cities  with  burglars.  In 
the  remote  regions  of  England,  such  as  Corn- 
wall in  the  west,  Yorkshire  and  Northumber- 
land in  the  north,  and  especially  in  the  midland 
Staffordshire,  the  manners  were  wild  and  sav- 
age, passing  all  conception  and  description. 
We  have  to  conceive  of  a  state  of  society  di- 
vested of  all  the  educational,  philanthropic,  and 
benevolent  activities  of  modern  times.  There 
were  no  Sunday-schools,  and  few  day-schools; 
here  and  there,  some  fortunate  neighbourhood 
possessed  a  grammar-school  from  some  old 
foundation.    Or,  perhaps  some  solitary  chapel. 


Darkness  before  Dawn.  17 

retreating  into  a  bye-lane  in  the  metropolitan 
city,  or  the  country  town,  or,  more  probably, 
far  away  from  any  town,  stood  at  some  conflu- 
ence of  roads,  a  monument  of  old  intolerance; 
but,  as  we  said,  religious  life  was  in  fact  dead, 
or  lying  in  a  trance. 

As  to  the  religious  teachers  of  those  times, 
we  know  of  no  period  in  our  history  concerning 
which  it  might  so  appropriately  be  said,  in  the 
words  of  the  prophet,  ''  The  pastors"  are  "be- 
come brutish,  and  have  not  sought  the  Lord." 
In  the  life  of  a  singular  man,  but  not  a  good  one, 
Thomas  Lord  Lyttleton,in  a  letter  dated  1775, 
we  have  a  most  graphic  portrait  of  a  country 
clergyman,  a  friend  of  Lyttleton,  who  went  by 
the  designation  of  ''  Parson  Adams."  We  sup- 
pose him  to  be  no  bad  representative  of  the  av- 
erage parson  of  that  day — coarse,  profane,  jocu- 
lar, irreligious.  On  a  Saturday  evening  he  told 
Lyttleton,  his  host,  that  he  should  send  his 
flocks  to  grass  on  the  approaching  Sabbath. 
"  The  next  morning,"  says  Lyttleton,  "  we 
hinted  to  him  that  the  company  did  not  wish 
to  restrain  him  from  attending  the  Divine  ser- 
vice of  the  parish;  but  he  declared  that  it 
would  be  adding  contempt  to  neglect  if,  when 
he  had  absented  himself  from  his  own  church 
he  should  go  to  any  other.  This  curious  etiquette 
he  strictly  observed;  and  we  passed  a  Sabbath 
contrary,  I  fear,  both  to  law  and  to  gospel." 


1 8  The  Great  Revival, 

If  we  desire  to  obtain  some  knowledge  of 
what  the  Church  of  England  was,  as  represent- 
ed by  her  clergy  when  George  III.  was  king, 
we  should  go  to  her  own  records  ;  and  for  the 
later  years  of  his  reign,  notably  to  the  life  of 
that  learned,  active,  and  amiable  man,  Dr. 
Blomfield,  Bishop  of  London,  whose  memory 
was  a  wonderful  repository  of  anecdotes,  not 
tending  to  elevate  the  clergy  of  those  times  in 
popular  estimation.  Intoxication  was  a  vice 
very  characteristic  of  the  cloth :  on  one  occa- 
sion the  bishop  reproved  one  of  his  Chester 
clergy  for  drunkenness:  he  replied,  *'But,  my 
lord,  I  never  was  drunk  on  duty."  *'  On  duty ! " 
exclaimed  the  bishop;  ''and  pray,  sir,  when  is 
a  clergyman  not  on  duty.?"  ''True,"  said  the 
other;  "my  lord,  I  never  thought  of  that." 
The  bishop  went  into  a  poor  man's  cottage  in 
one  of  the  valleys  in  the  Lake  district,  and 
asked  whether  his  clergyman  ever  visited  him. 
The  poor  man  replied  that  he  did  very  fre- 
quently. The  bishop  was  delighted,  and  ex- 
pressed his  gratification  at  this  pastoral  over- 
sight; and  this  led  to  the  discovery  that 
there  were  a  good  many  foxes  on  the  hills 
behind  the  house,  which  gave  the  occasion  for 
the  frequency  of  calls  which  could  scarcely  be 
considered  pastoral.  The  chaplain  and  son-in- 
law  of  Bishop  North  examined  candidates  for 


Darkness  before  Dawn.  19 

orders  in  a  tent  on  a  cricket-field,  he  being 
engaged  as  one  of  the  players;  the  chaplain  of 
Bishop  Douglas  examined  whilst  shaving; 
Bishop  Watson  never  resided  in  his  diocese 
during  an  episcopate  of  thirty-four  years. 

And  those  who  preached  seem  rarely  to  have 
been  of  a  very  edifying  order  of  preachers; 
Bishop  Blomfield  used  to  relate  how,  in  his 
boyhood,  when  at  Bury  St.  Edmund's,  the  Mar- 
quis of  Bristol  had  given  a  number  of  scarlet 
cloaks  to  some  poor  old  women;  they  all  ap- 
peared at  church  on  the  following  Sunday,  re- 
splendent in  their  new  and  bright  array,  and 
the  clergyman  made  the  donation  of  the  mar- 
quis the  subject  of  his  discourse,  announcing 
his  text  with  a  graceful  wave  of  his  hand  to- 
wards the  poor  old  bodies  who  were  sitting  there 
all  together:  **Even  Solomon,  in  all  his  glory, 
was  not  arrayed  like  one  of  these ! "  This 
worthy  seems  to  have  been  very  capable  of 
such  things:  on  another  occasion  a  dole  of  po- 
tatoes was  distributed  by  the  local  authorities 
in  Bury,  and  this  also  was  improved  in  a  ser- 
mon. "He  had  himself,"  the  bishop  says,  '*a 
very  corpulent  frame,  and  pompous  manner, 
and  a  habit  of  rolling  from  side  to  side  while  he 
delivered  himself  of  his  breathing  thoughts  and 
burning  words;  on  the  occasion  of  the  potato 
dole,   he   chose   for  his  singularly  appropriate 


20  The  Gi'eat  Revival. 

text  (Exodus  xvi.  15):  ''And  when  the  chil- 
dren of  Israel  saw  it,  they  said  one  to  another, 
It  is  manna;"  and  thence  he  proceeded  to 
discourse  to  the  recipients  of  the  potatoes  on 
the  warning  furnished  by  the  Israelites  against 
the  sin  of  gluttony,  and  the  wickedness  of  tak- 
ing more  than  their  share. 

When  that  admirable  man,  Mr.  Shirley,  be- 
gan his  evangelistic  ministry  as  the  friend  and 
coadjutor  of  his  cousin,  the  Countess  of  Hunt- 
ingdon, a  curate  went  to  the  archbishop  to 
complain  of  his  unclerical  proceedings  :  "  Oh, 
your  grace,  I  have  something  of  great  import- 
ance to  communicate  ;  it  will  astonish  you  !" 
"  Indeed,  what  can  it  be  T'  said  the  archbishop. 
"Why,  my  lord,"  replied  he,  throwing  into  his 
countenance  an  expression  of  horror,  and  ex- 
pecting the  archbishop  to  be  petrified  with  as- 
tonishment, "  he  actually  wears  white  stock- 
ings !"  "  Very  unclerical  indeed,"  said  the  arch- 
bishop, apparently  much  surprised  ;  he  drew 
his  chair  near  to  the  curate,  and  with  peculiar 
earnestness,  and  in  a  sort  of  confidential  whis- 
per, said,  "  Now  tell  me — I  ask  this  with  pecu- 
liar feelings  of  interest — does  Mr.  Shirley  wear 
them  over  his  boots  .?"  "  Why,  no,  your  grace, 
I  cannot  say  he  does."  "  Well,  sir,  the  first 
time  you  ever  hear  of  Mr.  Shirley  wearing  them 
over  his  boots,  be  so  good  as  to  warn  me,  and 
I  shall  know  how  to  deal  with  him  !" 


Darkness  before  Dawn.  21 

We  would  not,  on  the  other  hand,  be  unjust. 
We  may  well  believe  that  there  were  hamlets 
and  villages  where  country  clergymen  realised 
their  duties  and  fulfilled  them,  and  not  only  de- 
served all  the  merit  of  Goldsmith's  charming 
picture,*  but  were  faithful  ministers  of  the  New 
Testament  too.  But  our  words  and  illustra- 
tions refer  to  the  average  character  presented 
to  us  by  the  Church  ;  and  this,  again,  is  illus- 
trated by  the  vehement  hostility  presented  on 
all  hands  to  the  first  indications  of  the  Great 
Revival.  For  instance,  the  Rev.  Dr.  Thomas 
Church,  Vicar  of  Battersea,  in  a  well-known 
sermon  on  charity  schools,  deplored  and  de- 
nounced the  enormous  wickedness  of  the  times  ; 
after  saying,  "  Our  streets  are  grievously  in- 
fested ;  every  day  we  see  the  most  dreadful 
confusions,  daring  villanies,  dangers,  and  mis- 
chiefs, arising  from  the  want  of  sentiments  of 
piety,"  he  continues  :  "  For  our  own  sakes  and 
our  posterity's  everything  should  be  encouraged 
which  will  contribute  to  suppressing  these  evils, 
and  keep  the  poor  from  stealing,  lying,  drunk- 
enness, cruelty,  or  taking  God's  name  in  vain. 
While  we  feel  our  disease,  'tis  madness  to  set 
aside  any  remedy  which  has  power  to  check  its 
fury."  Having  said  this,  with  a  perfectly  start- 
ling inconsistency  he  turns  round,  and  address- 
ing himself  to  Wesley  and  the  Methodists,  he 

*  Appendix  B. 


22  The  Great  Revival. 

says,  "  We  cannot  but  regard  you  as  our  most 
dangerous  enemies." 

When  the  Great  Revival  arose,  the  Church  of 
England  set  herself,  everywhere,  in  full  array 
against  it ;  she  possessed  but  few  great  minds. 
The  massive  intellects  of  Butler  and  Berkeley 
belonged  to  the  immediately  preceding  age. 
The  most  active  intellect  on  the  bench  of  bish- 
ops was,  no  doubt,  that  of  Warburton ;  and  it 
is  sad  to  think  that  he  descended  to  a  tone  of 
scurrility  and  injustice  in  his  attack  on  Wesley, 
which,  if  worthy  of  his  really  quarrelsome  tem- 
per, was  altogether  unworthy  of  his  position 
and  his  powers. 

Thus,  whether  we  derive  our  impressions 
from  the.  so-called  Church  of  that  time,  or  from 
society  at  large,  we  obtain  the  evidences  of  a 
deplorable  recklessness  of  all  ordinary  princi- 
ples of  religion,  honour,  or  decorum.  Bishop 
Butler  had  written,  in  the  ''Advertisement  "  to 
his  Analogy,  and  he  appears  to  have  been  re- 
ferring to  the  clerical  and  educated  opinion  of 
his  time :  *'  It  is  come,  I  know  not  how,  to  be 
taken  for  granted,  by  many  persons, that  Chris- 
tianity is  not  so  much  as  a  subject  of  inquiry; 
but  that  it  is,  now  at  length,  discovered  to  be 
fictitious ;"  and  he  wrote  his  great  work  for  the 
purpose  of  arguing  the  reasonableness  of  the 
christian  religion,  even  on  the  principles  of  the 
Deism  prevalent  everywhere  around  him  in  the 


Darkness  before  Dawn.  23 

Church   and   society.     Addison   had    declared 
that  there  was  *'  less  appearance  of  religion  in 
England   than   in   any   neighbouring  state  or 
kingdom,  whether  Protestant  or  Catholic  ;"  and 
Montesquieu  came  to  the  country,  and  having 
made  his  notes,  published,  probably  with  some 
French  exaggeration,  that  there  was  ''  no  re- 
ligion in  England,  and  that  the  subject,  if  men- 
tioned in  society,  excited  nothing  but  laughter." 
Such  was  the  state  of  England,  when,  as  we 
must  think,  by  the  special  providence  of  God, 
the  voices  were  heard  crying  in  the  wilderness. 
From  the  earlier  years  of  the  last  century  they 
continued  sounding  with  such   clearness    and 
strength,    from  the   centre   to    the    remotest 
corners    of   the    kingdom;    from    the    coasts, 
where  the  Cornish  wrecker  pursued  his  strange 
craft   of  crime,   along   all    the   highways   and 
hedges,  where  rudeness  and  violence  of  every 
description  made  their  occasions  for  theft,  out- 
rage, and  cruelty,  until  the  whole  English  na- 
tion  became,  as   if  instinctively,  aHve  with  a 
new-born  soul,  and  not  in  vision,  but  in  reality, 
something  was  beheld  like  that  seen  by  the 
prophet   in   the   valley    of  vision — dry    bones 
clothed  with  flesh,  and   standing  up  "    an  ex- 
ceeding great  army,"  no  longer  on  the  side  of 
corruption  and  death,  but  ready  with  song  and 
speech,   and   consistent   living,   to   take   their 
place  on  the  side  of  the  Lord. 


24  The  Great  Revival* 


CHAPTER  11. 

FIRST   STREAKS   OF  DAWN. 

In  the  history  of  the  circumstances  which 
brought  about  the  Great  Revival,  we  must  not 
fail  to  notice  those  which  were  in  action  even  be- 
fore the  great  apostles  of  the  Revival  appeared. 
We  have  already  given  what  may  almost  be 
called  a  silhouette  of  society,  an  outline,  for 
the  most  part,  all  dark;  and  yet  in  the  Same 
period  there  were  relieving  tints,  just  as  some- 
times, upon  a  silhouette-portrait,  you  have  seen 
an  attempt  to  throw  in  some  resemblance  to 
the  features  by  a  touch  of  gold. 

Chief  among  these  is  one  we  do  not  remem- 
ber ever  to  have  seen  noticed  in  this  connec- 
tion— the  curious  invasion  of  our  country  by  the 
French  at  the  close  of  the  seventeenth  century. 
That  cruel  exodus  which  poured  itself  upon 
our  shores  in  the  great  and  even  horrible  per- 
secution of  the  Protestants  of  France,  when  the 
blind  bigotry  of  Louis  XIV.  revoked  the  Edict 
of  Nantes,  was  to  us,  as  a  nation,  a  really  incal- 
culable blessing.  It  is  quite  singular,  in  read- 
ing Dr.  Smiles's  Huguenots^  to  notice  the  large 


First  Streaks  of  Dawn.  25 

variety  of  names  of  illustrious  exiles,  eminent  for 
learning,  science,  character,  and  rank,  who  found 
a  refuge  here.    The  folly  of  the  King  of  France 
expelled  the   chief  captains  of  industry;  they 
came  hither  and  established  their  manufactures 
in  different  departments,  creating  and  carrying 
on  new  modes  of  industry.     Also  great  num- 
bers of  Protestant  clergymen  settled  here,  and 
formed  respectable  French  churches;  some  of 
the  most  eminent  ministers  of  our  various  de- 
nominations at  this   moment  are  descendants 
of  those   men.     Their  descendants  are  in  our 
peerage;  they   are   on   our  "bench   of  bishops; 
they  are  at  the  bar;  they   stand  high  in  the 
ranks    of  commerce.     At   the   commencement 
of  the  eighteenth  century,  their  ancestors  were 
settled    on    English    shores  ;     in    all    instances 
men   who  had  fled   from  comfort  and  domes- 
tic peace,  in  many  instances  from  affluence  and 
fame,  rather  than  be  false  to  their  conscience 
or  to  their  Saviour.    The  cruelties  of  that  dread- 
ful  persecution   which   banished  from    France 
almost  every  human  element  it  was  desirable 
to  retain  in  it,  while  they  were,  no  doubt,  there 
the  great  ultimate  cause  of  the  French  Revolu- 
tion, brought  to  England  what  must  have  been 
even  as  the  very  seasoning  of  society,  the  salt 
of  our  earth  in  the  subsequent  age  of  corrup- 
tion.      Most    of    the    children    of    these    men 


26  The  Great  Revival. 

were  brought  up  in  the  discipHne  of  religious 
households,  such  as  that  which  Sir  Samuel 
Romilly — himself  one  of  the  descendants  of  an 
earlier  band  of  refugees.  Dr.  Watts's  mother 
was  a  child  of  a  French  exile.  Clusters  of 
them  grew  up  in  many  neighbourhoods  in  the 
country,  notably  in  Southampton,  Norwich, 
Canterbury,  in  many  parts  of  London,  where 
Spitalfields  especially  was  a  French  colony. 
When  the  Revival  commenced,  these  were 
ready  to  aid  its  various  movements  by  their 
character  and  influence.  Some  fell  into  the 
Wesleyan  ranks,  though,  probably,  most,  like 
the  eminent  scholar  and  preacher,  William 
Romaine,  one  of  the  sons  of  the  exile,  main- 
tained the  more  Calvinistic  faith,  reflecting 
most  nearly  the  old  creed  of  the  Huguenot. 

This  surmise  of  the  influence  of  that  noble 
invasion  upon  the  national  well-being  of  Brit- 
ain is  justified  by  inference  from  the  facts.  It 
is  very  interesting  to  attempt  to  realise  the 
religious  life  of  eminent  activity  and  usefulness 
sustained  in  different  parts  of  the  country  be- 
fore the  Revival  dawned,  and  which  must  have 
had  an  influence  in  fostering  it  when  it  arose. 
And,  indeed,  while  we  would  desire  to  give  all 
grateful  honour  to  the  extraordinary  men  (espe- 
cially to  such  a  man  as  John  Wesley,  who 
achieved  so  much  through  a  life  in  which  the 


First  Streaks  of  Daw7t.  27 

length  and  the  usefulness  were  equal  to  each 
other,  since  only  when  he  died  did  he  cease  to 
animate  by  his  personal  influence  the  immense 
organisation  he  had  formed),  yet  it  seems  really 
impossible  to  regard  any  one  mind  as  the  seed 
and  source  of  the  great  movement.  It  was  as 
if  some  cyclone  of  spiritual  power  swept  all 
round  the  nation — or,  as  if  a  subtle,  unseen  train 
had  been  laid  by  many  men,  simultaneously,  in 
many  counties,  and  the  spark  was  struck,  and 
the  whole  was  suddenly  wrapped  in  a  Divine 
flame. 

Dr.  Abel  Stevens,  in  his  most  interesting, 
indeed,  charming  history  of  Methodism,  from 
his  point  of  view,  gives  to  his  own  beloved 
leader  and  Church  the  credit  of  the  entire 
movement  ;  so  also  does  Mr.  Tyerman,  in  his 
elaborate  life  of  Wesley.  But  this  is  quite 
contrary  to  all  dispassionate  dealing  with 
facts  ;  there  were  many  men  and  many  means 
in  quiet  operation,  some  of  these  even  before 
Wesley  was  born,  of  which  his  prehensile  mind 
availed  itself  to  draw  them  into  his  gigantic 
work  ;  and  there  were  many  which  had  operat- 
ed, and  continued  to  operate,  which  would  not 
fit  themselves  into  his  exact,  and  somewhat 
exacting,  groove  of  Church  life. 

We  have  said  it  was  as  if  a  cyclone  of  spiritual 
power  were  steadily  sweeping  round  the  minds 


28  The  Great  Revival. 

of  men  and  nations,  for  there  were  undoubted 
gusts  of  remarkable  spiritual  life  in  both  hemi- 
spheres, at  least  fifty  years  before  Methodism 
had  distinctly  asserted  itself  as  a  fact.  Most 
remarkable  was  the  ''  Great  Awakening"  in 
America,  in  Massachusetts  —  especially  at 
Northampton  (that  is  a  remarkable  story,  which 
will  always  be  associated  with  the  name  of 
Jonathan  Edwards).  We  have  referred  to  the 
exodus  of  the  persecuted  from  France  ;  equally 
remarkable  was  another  exodus  of  persecuted 
Protestants  from  Salzburg,  in  Austria.  The 
madness  of  the  Church  of  Rome  again  cast 
forth  an  immense  host  of  the  holiest  and  most 
industrious  citizens.  At  the  call  of  conscience 
they  marched  forth  in  a  body,  taking  joyfully 
the  spoiling  of  their  goods  rather  than  disavow 
their  faith  :  such  men  with  their  families  are  a 
treasure  to  any  nation  amongst  whom  they  may 
settle.  Thomas  Carlyle  has  paid  a  glowing 
historical  eulogy  to  the  memory  of  these  men, 
and  the  exodus  has  furnished  Goethe  with  the 
subject  of  one  of  his  most  charming  poems. 

Philip  Doddridge's  work  was  almost  done  be- 
fore the  Methodist  movement  was  known.  It 
seems  to  us  that  no  adequate  honour  has  ever  yet 
been  paid  to  that  most  beautiful  and  remark- 
ably inclusive  life.  It  was  public,  it  was  known 
and  noticed,  but  it  was  passed  almost  in  retreat 

*  See  Appendix  C. 


First  Streaks  of  Dawn.  29 

in  Northampton.  That  he  was  a  preacher  and 
pastor  of  a  Church  was  but  a  slight  portion  of 
the  Hfe  which  succumbed,  yet  in  the  prime  of 
his  days,  to  consumption.  His  academy  for 
the  education  of  young  ministers  seems  to  us, 
even  now,  something  Hke  a  model  of  what  such 
an  academy  should  be  ;  his  lectures  to  his  stu- 
dents are  remarkably  full  and  scholarly  and 
complete.  From  thence  went  forth  men  like 
the  saintly  Risdon  Darracott,  the  scholarly  and 
suggestive  Hugh  Farmer,  Benjamin  Fawcett, 
and  Andrew  Kippis.  The  hymns  of  Doddridge 
were  among  the  earliest,  as  they  are  still 
among  the  sweetest,  of  that  kind  of  offering  to 
our  modern  Church  ;  their  clear,  elevated, 
thrush-like  sweetness,  like  the  more  uplifted 
seraphic  trumpet  tones  of  Watts,  broke  in  upon 
a  time  when  there  was  no  sacred  song  worthy 
of  the  name  in  the  Church,  and  anticipated  the 
hour  when  the  melodious  acclamations  of  the 
people  should  be  one  of  the  most  cherished  ele- 
ments of  Christian  service. 

And  Isaac  Watts  was,  by  far,  the  senior  of 
Doddridge;  he  lived  very  much  the  life  of  a 
hermit.  Although  the  pastor  of  a  city  church, 
he  was  sequestered  and  withdrawn  from  public 
life  in  Theobalds,  or  Stoke  Newington,  where, 
however,  he  prosecuted  a  course  of  sacred  labor 
of  a  marvellously  manifold  description,  inter- 


30 


The  Great  Revival. 


meddling  with  every  kind  of  learning,  and  con- 
secrating it  all  to  the  great  end  of  the  christian 
ministry  and  the  producing  of  books,  which, 
whether  as  catechisms  for  children,  treatises  for 


ISAAC   WATTS. 


the  formation  of  mental  character,  philosophic 
essays  grappling  with  the  difficulties  of  schol- 
arly minds,  or  "  comfortable  words"  to  "  rock 
the  cradle  of  declining  age,"  were  all  to  become 


First  Streaks  of  Daum. 


31 


of  value  when  the  nation  should  awake  to  a  real 
spiritual  power.  They  are  mostly  laid  aside 
now  ;  but  they  have  served  more  than  one 
generation  well;  and  he,  beyond  question,  was 


the  first  who  taught  the  Protestant  Christian 
Church  in  England  to  sing.  His  hymns  and 
psalms  were  sounding  on  when  John  Wesley 
was  yet  a  child,  and  numbers  of  them  were  ap- 


32  The  Great  Revival. 

propriated  in  the  first  Methodist  hymn-book. 
But  Watts  and  Doddridge,  by  the  conditions 
of  their  physical  and  mental  being,  were  unfit- 
ted for  popular  leaders.  Perhaps,  also,  it  must 
be  admitted  that  they  had  not  that  which  has 
been  called  the  "instinct  for  souls;"  they  were 
concerned  rather  to  illustrate  and  expound  the 
truth  of  God,  and  to  "  adorn  the  doctrine  of 
God  our  Saviour,"  by  their  lives,  than  to  flash 
new  convictions  into  the  hearts  of  men.  It  is 
characteristic  that,  good  and  great  as  they 
were,  they  were  both  at  first  inimical  to  the 
Great  Revival;  it  seemed  to  them  a  suspicious 
movement.  The  aged  Watts  cautioned  his 
younger  fi-iend  Doddridge  against  encouraging 
it,  especially  the  preaching  of  Whitefield;  yet 
they  both  lived  to  give,  their  whole  hearts  to  it; 
and  some  of  Watts's  last  words  were  in  blessing, 
when,  near  death,  he  received  a  visit  from  the 
great  evangelist. 

Thus  we  need  to  notice  a  little  carefully  the 
age  immediately  preceding  the  rise  of  what  we 
call  Methodism,  in  order  to  understand  what 
Methodism  really  effected  ;  we  have  seen  that 
the  dreadful  condition  of  society  was  not  incon- 
sistent with  the  existence  over  the  country  of 
eminently  holy  men,  and  of  even  hallowed 
christian  families  and  circles.  If  space  allowed, 
it  would   be  very  pleasant   to   step  into,  and 


First  Streaks  of  Dawn.  35 

sketch  the  life  of  many  an  interior;  and  it  would 
scarcely  be  a  work  of  fancy,  but  of  authentic 
knowledge.  There  were  yet  many  which  al- 
most retained  the  character  of  Puritan  house- 
holds, and  among  them  several  baronial  halls. 
Nor  ought  we  to  forget  that  those  consistent 
and  high-minded  Christian  folk,  the  Quakers 
[Friends],  were  a  much  larger  body  then  than 
now,  although,  like  the  Shunammite  lady,  they 
especially  dwelt  among  their  own  people.  The 
Moravians  also  were  in  England;  but  all  existed 
like  little  scattered  hamlet  patches  of  spiritual 
life;  they  were  respectably  conservative  of  their 
own  usages.  Methodism  brought  enthusiasm 
to  religion,  and  the  instinct  for  souls,  united  to 
a  power  of  organisation  hitherto  unknown  to 
the  religious  life. 

At  what  hour  shall  we  fix  the  earliest  dawn 
of  the  Great  Revival }  Among  the  earliest 
tints  of  the  ''morning  spread  upon  the  mount- 
ains," which  was  to  descend  into  the  valley,  and 
illuminate  all  the  plains,  was  the  conversion  of 
that  extraordinary  woman,  Selina  Shirley,  the 
Countess  of  Huntingdon ;  it  is  scarcely  too 
much  to  call  her  the  Mother  of  the  Revival ;  it 
is  not  too  much  to  apply  to  her  the  language  of 
the  great  Hebrew  song — "  The  inhabitants  of 
the  villages  ceased,  they  ceased  until  that  I 
arose :  I  arose  a  mother  in  Israel."     She  illus- 


36  The  Great  Revival. 

trates  the  difference  of  which  we  spoke  just 
now,  for  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  she  had  a 
passionate  instinct  for  souls,  to  do  good  to 
souls,  to  save  souls.  Her,  injunctions  for  the 
destruction  of  all  her  private  papers  have  been 
so  far  complied  with  as  to  leave  the  earlier  his- 
tory of  her  mind,  and  the  circumstances  which 
brought  about  her  conversion,  for  the  most  part 
unknown.  It  is  certain  that  she  was  on  terms 
of  intimate  friendship  with  both  Watts  and 
Doddridge,  but  especially  with  Doddridge. 
Another  intimate  friend  of  the  Countess  was 
Watts's  very  close  friend,  the  Duchess  of  Som- 
erset ;  and  thus  the  links  of  the  story  seem  to 
run,  like  that  old  and  well-known  instance  of 
communicated  influence,  when  Andrew  found 
his  own  brother,  Simon,  and  these  in  turn  found 
Philip  and  Nathaniel.  It  was  very  natural  that, 
beholding  the  state  of  society  about  her,  she 
should  be  interested,  first,  as  it  seems,  for  those 
of  her  own  order  ;  it  was  at  a  later  time,  when 
she  became  acquainted  with  Whitefield,  that  he 
justified  her  drawing-room  assemblies,  by  re- 
minding her — not,  perhaps,  with  exact  critical 
propriety — of  the  text  in  Galatians,  where  Paul 
mentioned  how  he  preached  *'  privately  to  tho^e 
of  reputation."*  For  some  time  this  appears  to 
have  been  the  aim  of  the  good  Countess,  much  in 
accordance  with  that  pretty  saying  of  hers,  that 

*Appendix  D. 


First  Streaks  of  Dawn.  37 

"there  was  a  text  in  which  she  blessed  God  for 
the  insertion  of  the  letter  M:  '  not  ;;zany  noble.'" 
The  beautiful  Countess  was  a  heroine  in  her 
own  line  from  the  earliest  days  of  her  conver- 
sion. Belonging  to  one  of  the  noblest  families 
of  England,  she  had  an  entrance  to  the  highest 
circles,  and  her  heart  felt  very  pitiful  for,  espe- 
cially, the  women  of  fashion  around  her,  broken- 
hearted with  disappointment,  or  sick  with  ennid. 
Among  these  was  Sarah,  the  great  Duchess 
of  Marlborough,  apparently  one  of  the  intimate 
friends  of  the  Countess ;  her  letters  are  most 
characteristic.  She  mentions  that  the  Duch- 
ess of  Ancaster,  Lady  Townshend,  and  others, 
had  just  heard  Mr.  Whitefield  preach,  and 
"  What  they  said  of  the  sermon  has  made  me 
lament  ever  since  that  I  did  not  hear  it ;  it 
might  have  been  the  means  of  doing  me  some 
good,  for  good,  alas  !  I  do  want ;  but  where 
among  the  corrupt  sons  and  daughters  of  Adam 
am  I  to  find  it  T  She  goes  on  :  *'  Dear,  good 
Lady  Huntingdon,  I  have  no  comfort  in  my 
own  family  ;  I  hope  you  will  shortly  come  and 
see  me  ;  I  always  feel  more  happy  and  more 
contented  after  an  hour's  conversation  with 
you  ;  when  alone,  my  reflections  and  recollec- 
tion almost  kill  me.  Now  there  is  Lady  Fran- 
ces Saunderson's  great  rout  to-morrow  night  ; 
all  the  world  will  be  there,  and  I  must  go.     I 


38  The  Great  Revival. 

hate  that  woman  as  much  as  I  hate  a  physician, 
but  I  must  go,  if  for  no  other  purpose  than  to 
mortify  and  spite  her.  This  is  very  wicked,  I 
know,  but  I  confess  all  my  little  peccadilloes  to 
you,  for  I  know  your  goodness  will  lead  you  to 
be  mild  and  forgiving  ;  and  perhaps  my  wicked 
heart  may  gain  some  good  from  you  in  the  end."  ' 
And  then  she  closes  her  note  with  some  re- 
marks on  ''  that  crooked,  perverse  little  wretch 
at  Twickenham,"  by  which  pleasant  designation 
she  means  the  poet,  Pope. 

Another,  and  another  order  of  character,  was 
the  Duchess  of  Buckingham  ;  she  came  to  hear 
Whitefield  preach  in  the  drawing-room,  and 
was  quite  scandalised.  In  a  letter  to  the 
Countess,  she  says,  *'  The  doctrines  are  most 
repulsive,  and  strongly  tinctured  with  imperti- 
nence :  it  is  monstrous  to  be  told  that  you  have 
a  heart  as  sinful  as  the  common  wretches  that 
crawl  the  earth ;  this  is  highly  offensive  and 
insulting,  and  I  cannot  but  wonder  that  your 
ladyship  should  relish  any  sentiments  so  much 
at  variance  with  high  rank  and  good  breeding." 
Such  were  some  of  the  materials  the  Countess 
attempted  to  gather  in  her  drawing-rooms,  if 
possible  to  cure  the  aching  of  empty  hearts.  If 
the  two  duchesses  met  together,  it  is  very  likely 
they  would  be  antipathetic  to  each  other ;  a 
prouder  old  lady  than  Sarah,  the  English  em- 


First  Streaks  of  Dawn.  39 

pire  did  not  contain,  but  she  was  proud  that 
she  was  the  wife  and  widow  of  the  great  Marl- 
borough. The  Duchess  of  Buckingham  was 
equally  proud  that  she  was  the  natural  daugh- 
ter of  James  II.  When  her  son,  the  Duke  of 
Buckingham,  died,  she  sent  to  the  old  Duchess 
of  Marlborough  to  borrow  the  magnificent  car 
which  had  borne  John  Churchill's  body  to  the 
Abbey,  and  the  fiery  old  Duchess  sent  her  back 
word,  "  It  had  carried  Lord  Marlborough,  and 
should  never  be  profaned  by  any  other  corpse." 
The  message  was  not  likely  to  act  as  an  entente 
cordiale  in  such  society  as  we  have  described. 

The  mention  of  these  names  will  show  the 
reader  that  we  are  speaking  of  a  time  when  the 
Revival  had  not  wrought  itself  into  a  great 
movement.  The  Countess  continued  to  make 
enthusiastic  efforts  for  those  of  her  own  order — 
we  are  afraid,  with  a  few  distinguished  excep- 
tions, without  any  great  amount  of  success; 
but  certainly,  were  it  possible  for  us  to  look 
into  the  drawing-room  in  South  Audley  Street, 
in  those  closing  years  of  the  reign  of  George  II., 
we  might  well  be  astonished  at  the  brilliancy 
of  the  concourse,  and  the  finding  ourselves 
in  the  company  of  some  of  the  most  distin- 
guished names  of  the  highest  rank  and  fashion 
of  the  period.  It  was  the  age  of  that  cold,  sar- 
donic sneerer,  Horace  Walpole;  he  writes  to 


40  The  Great  Revival, 

Florence,  to  his  friend  Sir  Horace  Mann,  in  his 
scoffing  fashion  :  *'  If  you  ever  think  of  return- 
ing to  England,  you  must  prepare  yourself  with 
Methodism;  this  sect  increases  as  fast  as  almost 
any  religious  nonsense  ever  did;  Lady  Fanny 
Shirley  has  chosen  this  way  of  bestowing  the 
dregs  of  her  beauty,  and  Lyttleton  is  very  near 
making  the  same  sacrifice  of  the  dregs  of  all 
those  various  characters  that  he  has  worn.  The 
Methodists  love  your  big  sinners  as  proper  sub- 
jects to  work  upon,  and  indeed  they  have  a 
plentiful  harvest."  Then  he  satirises  Lady 
Ferrars,  whom  he  styles  "  General,  my  Lady 
Dowager  Ferrars."  But,  indeed,  it  is  impossible 
to  enumerate  the  names  of  all,  or  any  propor- 
tion of  the  number  who  attended  this  brilliant 
circle.  Sometimes  unhappy  events  took  place; 
Mr.  Whitefield  was  sometimes  too  dreadfully, 
although  unconsciously,  faithful.  Lady  Rock- 
ingham, who  really  seems  to  have  been  in- 
clined to  do  good,  begged  the  Countess  to  per- 
mit her  to  bring  the  Countess  of  Suffolk,  well 
known  as  the  powerful  mistress  of  George  IL 
Whitefield  ''knew  nothing  of  the  matter;"  but 
some  arrow  "  drawn  at  a  venture,"  and  which 
probably  might  have  as  well  fitted  many 
another  lady  about  the  court  or  in  that  very 
room,  exactly  hit  the  Countess.  However 
much  she  fidgeted  with  irritation,  she  sat  out 


First  Streaks  of  Dawn.  41 

the  service  in  silence;  but,  as  soon  as  it  was 
over,  the  beautiful  fury  burst  forth  in  all  the 
stormful  speech  of  a  termagant  or  virago.  She 
abused  Lady  Huntingdon;  she  declared  that 
the  whole  service  had  been  a  premeditated 
attack  upon  herself.  Her  relatives,  Lady  Ber- 
tie, the  celebrated  Lady  Betty  Germain,  the 
Duchess  of  Ancastef,  one  of  the  most  beautiful 
women  in  England,  and  who,  afterwards,  with 
the  Duchess  of  Hamilton,  conducted  the  future 
queen  of  George  IIL  to  England's  shores,  ex- 
postulated with  her,  commanded  her  to  be 
silent,  and  attempted  to  explain  her  mistake; 
they  insisted  that  she  should  apologise  to  Lady 
Huntingdon  for  her  behaviour,  and,  in  an  un- 
gracious manner,  she  did  so;  but  we  learn  that 
she  never  honoured  the  assembly  again  with 
her  presence. 

What  a  singular  assembly  from  time  to  time! 
the  square  dark  face  of  that  old  gentleman, 
painfully  hobbling  in  on  his  crutched  stick — 
face  once  as  handsome  as  that  of  St.  John,  now 
the  disappointed,  moody  features  of  the  mas- 
sive, but  sceptical  intelligence  of  Bolingbroke; 
poor  worn-out  old  Chesterfield,  cold  and  court- 
ly, yet  seeming  so  genial  and  humane,  coming 
again  and  again,  and  yet  again;  those  reckless 
wits,  and  leaders  of  the  ton  and  all  high 
society,    Bubb  Doddington,    afterwards    Lord 


42  The  Great  Revival, 

Melcombe,  and  George  Selwyn;  the  Duchess  of 
Montague,  with  her  young  daughter ;  Lady 
Cardigan,  often  there,  if  her  mother,  Sarah 
of  Marlborough,  were  but  seldom  a  visitor. 
Charles  Townshend,  the  great  minister,  often 
came;  and  his  friend.  Lord  Lyttleton,  who 
really  must  have  been  in  sympathy  with  some 
of  the  objects  of  the  assembly,  if  we  may  judge 
from  his  Essay  on  the  Conversion  of  St.  Paul,  a 
piece  of  writing  which  will  never  lose  its  value. 
There  you  might  have  seen  even  the  great 
commoner,  William  Pitt,  afterwards  Earl  of 
Chatham;  but  we  can  understand  why  he  would 
be  there  to  listen  to  the  manifold  notes  of  an 
eloquence  singularly  resembling,  in  many  par- 
ticulars, his  own.  And,  in  fact,  where  such  per- 
sons were  present,  we  might  be  sure  that  the 
entire  nobility  of  the  country  was  represented. 
It  might  be  tempting  to  loiter  amidst  these 
scenes  a  little  longer.  It  was  an  experiment 
made  by  the  Countess;  she  probably  found  it 
almost  a  failure,  and,  in  the  course  of  a  few 
years,  turned  her  attention  to  the  larger  ideas 
connected  with  the  evangelisation  of  England, 
and  the  training  of  young  men  for  the  work  of 
the  ministry.  She  long  outHved  all  those 
brilliant  hosts  she  had  gathered  round  her  in 
the  prime  of  life.  But  we  cannot  doubt  that 
some  good  was  effected  by  this  preaching  to 


First  Streaks  of  Dawn.  43 

"  people  of  reputation."  Courtiers  like  Wal- 
pole  sneered,  but  it  saved  the  movement  to  a 
great  degree,  when  it  became  popular,  from 
being  suspected  as  the  result  of  political  fac- 
tion; and  probably,  as  all  these  nobles  and 
gentry  passed  away  to  their  various  country 
seats,  when  they  heard  of  the  preachers  in 
their  neighbourhoods,  and  received  the  com- 
plaints of  the  bishops  and  their  clergy,  with 
some  contempt  for  the  messengers,  they  were 
able  to  feel,  and  to  say,  that  there  was  nothing 
much  more  dreadful  than  the  love  of  God  and 
His  good  will  to  men  in  their  message. 

It  seems  a  very  sudden  leap  from  the  saloons 
of  the  West  End  to  a  Lincolnshire  kitchen;  but 
in  the  kitchen  of  that  most  romantic  old  vicar- 
age of  Epworth,  it  has  been  truly  said,  the 
most  vigorous  form  of  Methodism  had  its  origin. 
There,  at  the  close  of  the  seventeenth  century, 
and  the  commencement  of  the  eighteenth, 
lived  and  laboured  old  Samuel  Wesley,  the 
father  of  John  and  Charles  Wesley.  Samuel 
was  in  every  sense  a  wonderful  man,  more  won- 
derful than  most  people  know,  though  Mr. 
Tyerman  has  done  his  best  to  set  him  forth  in 
a  very  clear  and  pleasant  light,  in  his  very  enter- 
taining biography.  Scholar,  preacher,  pastor, 
and  poet  was  Samuel  Wesley;  he  led  a  life  full 
of  romantic   incident,   and  full  of  troubles,  of 


44  The  Great  Revival. 

which  the  two  most  notable  are  debts  and 
ghosts:  debts,  we  must  say,  in  passing,  which 
had  more  to  do  with  unavoidable  calamity 
than  with  any  personal  imprudence.  The 
good  man  would  have  been  shocked,  and  have 
counted  it  one  of  his  sorest  troubles,  could  he, 
in  some  real  horoscope,  have  forecast  what 
*' Jackey,"  his  son  John,  was  to  be.  But  it  was 
his  wife,  Susannah  Wesley,  patient  housewife, 
much-enduring,  much-suffering  woman,  Mary 
and  Martha  in  one,  saint  as  sacredly  sweet  as 
any  who  have  seemed  worthy  of  a  place  in  any 
calendar  of  saints,  Catholic  or  Protestant, 
mother  of  children,  all  of  whom  were  remark- 
able— two  of  them  wonderful,  and  a  third  high- 
ly eminent — it  was  Susannah  Wesley,  whose 
instinct  for  souls  led  her  to  look  abroad  over  all 
the  parish  in  which  she  lived,  with  a  tender, 
spiritual  affection;  in  her  husband's  absence, 
turning  the  large  kitchen  into  a  church,  invit- 
ing her  poor  neighbours  into  it,  and,  somewhat 
at  first  to  the  distress  of  her  husband,  preach- 
ing to  and  praying  with  them  there.  This  brief 
reference  can  only  memorialise  her  name;  read 
John  Kirk's  little  volume,  and  learn  to  love 
and  revere  "  the  mother  of  the  Wesleys  !  "  The 
freedom  and  elevation  of  her  religious  life,  and 
her  practical  sagacity,  it  is  not  difficult  to  see, 
must  have  given  hints   and  ideas  which  took 


First  Streaks  of  Dawn,  45 

shape  and  body  in  the  large  movement  of  which 
her  son  John  came  to  be  regarded,  and  is  still 
regarded,  as  the  patriarch.  Thus  Isaac  Tay- 
lor says,  ''  The  Wesleys'  mother  was  the  mother 
of  Methodism  in  a  religious  and  moral  sense, 
for  her  courage,  her  submissiveness  to  author-  f 
ity,  the  high  tone  of  her  mind,  its  independence,  " 
and  its  self-control,  the  warmth  of  her  devo- 
tional feelings,  and  the  practical  direction  giv- 
en to  them,  came  up,  and  were  visibly  repeated 
in  the  character  and  conduct  of  her  sons." 
Later  on  in  life  she  became  one  of  the  wisest 
advisers  of  her  son,  in  his  employment  of  the 
auxiliaries  to  his  own  usefulness.  Perhaps,  if 
we  could  see  spirits  as  they  are,  we  might  see 
in  this  woman  a  higher  and  loftier  type  of  life 
than  in  either  of  those  who  first  received  life 
from  her  bosom;  some  of  her  quiet  words  have 
all  the  passion  and  sweetness  of  Charles's 
hymns.  Our  space  will  not  permit  many  quo- 
tations, but  take  the  following  words,  and  the 
sweet  meditation  in  prose  of  the  much-endur- 
ing, and  often  patiently  suffering  lady  in  the 
old  world  country  vicarage,  which  read  like 
many  of  her  son's  notes  in  verse:  *'  If  to  esteem 
and  have  the  highest  reverence  for  Thee;  if 
constantly  and  sincerely  to  acknowledge  Thee 
the  supreme,  and  only  desirable  good,  be  to  love 
Thee,  I  DO  LOVE  Thee!  If  to  rejoice  in  Thy  es- 


46  The  Great  Revival. 

sential  majesty  and  glory;  if  to  feel  a  vital  joy 
overspread  and  cheer  the  heart  at  each  percep- 
tion of  Thy  blessedness,  at  every  thought  that 
Thou  art  God,  and  that  all  things  are  in  Thy 
power;  that  there  is  none  superior  or  equal  to 
Thee,  be  to  love  Thee,  I  DO  LOVE  Thee!  If 
comparatively  to  despise  and  undervalue  all  the 
world  contains,  which  is  esteemed  great,  fair, 
or  good;  if  earnestly  and  constantly  to  desire 
Thee,  Thy  favour,  Thy  acceptance.  Thyself, 
rather  than  any,  or  all  things  Thou  hast  created, 
be  to  love  Thee,  I  DO  LOVE  Thee!  "  At  length 
she  died  as  she  had  lived,  her  last  words  to  her 
sons  breathing  the  spirit  of  her  singular  life: 
**  Children,  as  soon  as  I  am  released,  sing  a 
psalm  of  praise  to  God!  " 

Thus,  from  the  polite  circles  of  London,  from 
the  obscure  old  farm-like  vicarage,  the  rude  and 
rough  old  English  home,  events  were  preparing 
themselves.  John  Wesley  was  born  in  1703  ; 
the  Countess  of  Huntingdon  in  1707  :  near  in 
their  birth  time,  how  far  apart  the  scenery  and 
the  circumstances  in  which  their  eyes  first 
opened  to  the  light.  Whitefield  was  born 
later,  amidst  the  still  less  auspicious  scenery  of 
the  old  Bell  Inn,  at  Gloucester,  in  1714.  These 
were  undoubtedly  among  the  foremost  names 
in  the  great  palpitation  of  thought,  feeHng,  and 
holy    action    the    country   was  to  experience. 


First  Streaks  of  Da'w?i.  47 

Future  chapters  will  show  a  number  of  other 
names,  which  were  simultaneously  coming 
forth  and  educating  for  the  great  conflict.  So 
it  has  always  been,  and  singularly  so,  as  illus- 
trating the  order  of  Providence,  and  the  way  in 
which  it  gives  a  new  personality  to  the  men 
whom  it  designs  to  aid  its  purposes.  In  every 
part  of  the  country,  all  unknown  to  each  other, 
in  families  separated  by  position  and  taste,  by 
birth  and  circumstances,  a  band  of  workers  was 
preparing  to  produce  an  entire  moral  change  in 
the  features  of  the  country. 


48  The  Great  Revival. 


CHAPTER  III. 

OXFORD  :   NEW    LIGHTS  AND    OLD  LANTERNS. 

It  is  remarkable  that  one  of  the  very  earHest 
movements  of  the  new  evangelical  succession 
should  manifest  itself  in  Oxford — many  minded 
Oxford — whose  distant  spires  and  antique  tow- 
ers have  looked  down  through  so  many  ages 
upon  the  varying  opinions  which  have  surged 
up  around  and  within  her  walls.  Lord  Bacon 
has  somewhere  said  that  the  opinions,  feelings, 
and  thoughts  of  the  young  men  of  any  present 
generation  forecast  the  whole  popular  mind  of 
the  future  age.  No  remark  can  be  more  true, 
as  exhibited  generally  in  fact.  Thus  it  is  not 
too  much  to  say  that  Oxford  has  usually  been 
a  barometer  of  coming  opinions  :  either  by  her 
adhesion  or  antagonism  to  them,  she  has  indi- 
cated the  pathway  of  the  nearing  weather,  either 
for  calm  or  storm.  It  was  so  in  the  dark  ages, 
with  the  old  scholastic  philosophy  ;  it  was  so 
in  the  times  immediately  succeeding  them  :  in 
our  own  day,  the  great  Tractarian  movement, 
with  all  its  influences  Rome-ward,  arose  in 
Oxford  ;    later   still,    the  strong  tendencies  of 


Oxford:  New  Lights  and  Old  Lanterns.  49 

high  intellectual  infidelity,  and  denial  of  the 
sacred  prerogatives  and  rights  of  the  Holy 
Scriptures,  sent  forth  some  of  their  earliest 
notes  from  Oxford.  Oxford  has  been  likened 
to  the  magnificent  conservatory  at  Chatsworth, 
where  art  combines  with  nature,  and  achieves 
all  that  wealth  and  taste  could  command  ; 
but  the  air  is  heavy  and  close,  and  rich  as 
the  forms  and  colours  are  around  the  spec- 
tator, there  is  depression  and  repression,  even 
a  sense  of  oppression,  upon  the  spirits,  and  we 
are  glad  to  escape  into  the  breezy  chase,  and 
among  the  old  trees  again.  This  is  hardly 
true  of  Oxford  ;  no  doubt  the  air  is  hushed,  and 
the  influences  combine  to  weigh  down  the  mere 
visitor  by  a  sense  of  the  hoariness  of  the  past, 
and  the  black  antiquity  and  frost  of  ages  ;  but 
somehow  there  is  a  mind  in  Oxford  which  is 
always  alive — not  merely  a  scholarly  knowl- 
edge, but  a  subtle  apprehension  of  the  coming 
winds — even  as  certain  creatures  forebode  and 
know  the  coming  storm  before  the  rain  falls  or 
the  thunder  rolls. 

We  may  presume  that  most  of  our  readers 
are  acquainted  with  the  designation,  ''  the  Ox- 
ford Methodists  ;"  but,  perhaps,  some  are  not 
aware  that  the  term  was  applied  to  a  cluster  of 
young  students,  who,  in  a  time  when  the  uni- 
versity was  delivered  over  to  the  usual  disso- 


50  The  Great  Revival, 

luteness  and  godless  indifference  of  the  age, 
met  together  in  each  other's  rooms  for  the 
purpose  of  sustaining  each  other  in  the  determi- 
nation to  Hve  a  holy  yfe,  and  to  bring  their 
mutual  help  to  the  reading  and  opening  of  the 
Word  of  God.  From  different  parts  of  the 
country  they  met  together  there;  when  they 
went  forth,  their  works,  their  spheres  were 
different  ;  but  the  power  and  the  beauty  of  the 
old  college  days  seem  to  have  accompanied 
them  through  life  ;  they  realised  the  Divine  life 
as  a  real  power  from  that  commencement  to  the 
close  of  their  career,  although  it  is  equally 
interesting  to  notice  how  the  framework  of 
their  opinions  changed.  Some  of  their  names 
are  comparatively  unknown  now,  but  John  and 
Charles  Wesley,  George  Whitefield,  and  James 
Hervey,  are  well  known  ;  nor  is  John  Gambold 
unknown,  nor  Benjamin  Ingham,  who  married 
into  the  family  of  the  Countess  of  Huntingdon, 
of  whom  we  will  speak  a  little  more  particularly 
when  we  visit  the  wild  Yorkshire  of  those  days  ; 
nor  Morgan  of  Christ  Church,  whose  influence 
is  described  as  the  most  beautiful  of  all,  a 
young  man  of  delicate  constitution  and  intense 
enthusiasm,  who  visited  and  talked  with  the 
prisoners  in  the  neighbourhood,  visited  the 
cottages  around  to  read  and  pray,  left  his 
memory  as  a  blessing  upon  his   companions, 


Oxford:  New  Lights  and  Old  Laiiterns.   51 

and  was  very  early  called  away  to  his  reward. 
This  obscure  life  seems  to  have  been  one  most 
honoured  in  that  whicj;^'  came  to  be  called  by 
the  wits  of  Oxford,  ''  The  Holy  Club." 

It  was  just  about  this  time  that  Voltaire  was 
predicting  that,  in  the  next  generation,  Chris- 
tianity would  be  overthrown  and  unknown 
throughout  the  whole  civilised  world.  Chris- 
tianity has  lived  through,  and  long  outlived 
many  such  predictions.  Voltaire  had  said,  *'  It 
took  twelve  men  to  set  up  Christianity  ;  it 
would  only  take  one"  (conceitedly  referring  to 
himself)  '*  to  overthrow  it  ;"  but  the  work  of 
those  whom  he  called  the  *'  twelve  men "  is 
still  of  some  account  in  the  world — their  words 
are  still  of  some  authority,  and  there  are  very  few 
people  on  the  face  of  the  earth  at  this  moment 
who  know  much  of,  and  fewer  still  who  care 
much  for  the  wit  of  the  vain  old  infidel.  That 
Voltaire's  prediction  was  not  fulfilled,  under 
the  Providential  influence  of  that  Divine  Spirit 
who  never  leaves  us  in  our  low  estate,  was  greatly 
owing  to  this  obscure  and  despised  ''  Holy 
Club"  of  Oxford.  These  young  men  were  feel- 
ing their  way,  groping,  as  they  afterwards  ad- 
mitted, and  somewhat  in  the  dark,  after  those 
experiences,  which,  as  they  were  to  be  assur- 
ances to  themselves,  should  be  also  their  most 
certain  means  of  usefulness  to  others. 


52  The  Great  Revival. 

They  were  also  called  Methodists.  It  is 
singular,  but  neither  the  precise  etymology  nor 
the  first  appropriation  of  the  term  Methodist 
has,  we  believe,  ever  been  distinctly  or  satis- 
factorily settled.  Some  have  derived  it  from 
an  allusion  in  Juvenal  to  a  quack  physician, 
some  to  a  passage  from  the  writings  of  Chry- 
sostom,  who  says,  *'  to  be  a  methodist  is  to  be 
beguiled,"  and  which  was  employed  in  a 
pamphlet  against  Mr.  Whitefield.  Like  some 
other  phrases,  it  is  not  easy  to  settle  its  fi'rst 
import  or  importation  into  our  language.  Cer- 
tainly it  is  much  older  than  the  times  to  which 
this  book  especially  refers.  It  seems  to  be 
even  contemporary  with  the  term  Puritan, 
since  we  find  Spencer,  the  librarian  of  Sion 
College  under  Cromwell,  writing,  ''  Where  are 
now  our  Anabaptists  and  plain  pack-staff 
Methodists,  who  esteem  all  flowers  of  rhetoric 
in  sermons  no  better  than  stinking  weeds  .?"  A 
writer  in  the  British  Quarterly  tells  a  curious 
story  how  once  in  a  parish  church  in  Hunting- 
donshire, he  was  listening  to  a  clergyman, 
notorious  alike  by  his  private  character  and 
vehement  intolerance,  who  was  entertaining 
his  audience,  on  a  week  evening,  by  a  discourse 
from  the  text,  Ephesians  iv.  14,  *' Whereby 
they  lie  in  wait  to  deceive."  He  said  to  his 
people,  "  Now,  you  do  not  know  Greek;  I  know 


Oxford:  New  Lights  and  Old  Lantci-Jis.   53 

Greek,  and  1  am  going  to  tell  you  what  this 
text  really  says;  it  says,  'they  lie  in  wait  to 
make  you  Methodists.'  The  word  used  here  is 
Methodeiaii,  that  is  really  the  word  that  is  used, 
and  that  is  really  what  Paul  said,  '  They  lie  in 
wait  to  make  you  Methodists' — a  Methodist 
means  a  deceiver,  and  one  who  deludes,  cheats, 
and  beguiles."  The  Grecian  scholar  was  a 
little  at  fault  in  his  next  allusion,  for  he  pro- 
ceeded to  quote  that  other  text,  **We  are 
not  ignorant  of  his  devices,"  and  seemed  to  be 
under  the  impression  that  "  device"  was  the 
same  word  as  that  on  which  he  had  expended 
his  criticism.  ''  Now,"  said  he,  *'  you  may  be 
ignorant,  because  you  do  not  know  Greek,  but 
we  are  not  ignorant  of  his  devices,  that  is,  of 
his  methods,  his  deceivers,  that  is,  his  Method- 
ists." In  such  empty  wit  and  ignorant  punning 
it  is  very  likely  that  the  term  had  its  origin. 

John  Wesley  passed  through  a  long,  singu- 
lar, and  what  we  may  call  a  parti-coloured  ex- 
perience, before  his  mind  came  out  into  the 
light.  In  those  days  his  mind  was  a  singular 
combination  of  High  Churchism,  amounting  to 
what  we  should  call  Ritualism  now,  and  mys- 
ticism, both  of  which  influences  he  brought 
from  Epworth  :  the  first  from  his  father,  the 
second  from  the  strong  fascination  of  the  writ- 
ings of  William  Law.     He  found,  however,  in 


54  The  Great  Revival. 

the  ''  Holy  Club"  that  which  helped  him.  He 
tells  us  how,  when  at  Epworth,  he  travelled 
many  miles  to  see  a  '*  serious  man,"  and  to  take 
counsel  from  him.  "  Sir,"  said  this  person,  as 
if  the  right  word  were  given  to  him  at  the  right 
moment,  exactly  meeting  the  necessities  of  the 
man  standing  before  him,  *'  Sir,  you  wish  to 
serve  God  and  to  go  to  heaven  :  remember  you 
cannot  serve  Him  alone;  you  must  therefore 
find  companions,  or  make  them.  The  Bible 
knows  nothing  of  solitary  religion."  It  must 
be  admitted  that  the  enthusiasm  of  the  mystics 
hasj  always  been  rather  personal  than  social; 
but  the  society  at  Oxford  was  almost  monastic, 
nor  is  it  wonderful  that,  with  the  spectacle  of 
the  dissolute  life  around  them,  these  earnest 
men  adopted  rules  of  the  severest  self-denial 
and  asceticism.  John  Wesley  arrived  in  Oxford 
first  in  1720;  he  left  for  some  time.  Returning 
home  to  assist  his  father,  he  became,  as  we 
know,  to  his  father's  immense  exultation.  Fel- 
low of  Lincoln  College. 

In  1733  George  Whitefield  arrived  at  Oxford, 
then  in  his  nineteenth  year.  Like  most  of  this 
band,  Whitefield  was,  if  not  really,  compara- 
tively poor,  and  dependent  upon  help  to  enable 
him  to  pursue  his  studies;  not  so  poor,  perhaps, 
as  an  illustrious  predecessor  in  the  same  col- 
lege (Pembroke),  who  had  left  only  the  year 


Oxford:  New  LigJits  and  Old  Lanterns.    55 

before,  one  Samuel  Johnson,  the  state  of  whose 
shoes  excited  so  much  commiseration  in  some 
benevolent  heart,  that  a  pair  of  new  ones  was 
placed  outside  his  rooms,  only,  however,  creat- 
ing surprise  in  the  morning,  when  he  was  seen 
indignantly  kicking  them  up  and  down  the 
passage.  Wlfltefield  was  not  troubled  by  such 
over-sensitive  and  delicate  feelings  ;  men  are 
made  differently.  Johnson's  rugged  independ- 
ence did  its  work  ;  and  the  easy  facility  and 
amiable  disposition,  which  could  receive  fa- 
vours without  a  sense  of  degradation,  were  very 
essential  to  what  Whitefield  was  to  be.  He, 
however,  when  he  came  to  Oxford,  was  caught 
in  the  same  glamour  of  mysticism  as  John  Wes- 
ley. But  in  this  case  it  was  Thomas  a-Kempis 
who  had  besieged  the  soul  of  the  young 
enthusiast  ;  he  was  miserable,  his  life,  his  heart 
and  mind  were  crushed  beneath  this  altogether 
inhuman  and  unattainable  standard  for  salva- 
tion. He  was  a  Quietist — what  a  paradox  ! — 
Whitefield  a  Quietist  !  He  was  seeking  salva- 
tion by  works  of  righteousness  which  he  could 
do.  He  was  practising  the  severest  austerities 
and  renouncing  the  claims  of  an  external  world  ; 
he  was  living  an  internal  life  which  God  did  not 
intend  should  bring  to  him  either  rest  or  calm; 
for,  in  that  case,  how  could  he  ever  have  stirred 
the  deep  foundations  of  universal  sympathy  }  ^ 


56  The  Great  Revival. 

But  that  heart,  whose  very  mould  was  tender- 
ness, was  easily  called  aside  by  the  sight  of 
suffering  ;  and  there  is  an  interesting  story, 
how,  at  this  time,  in  one  of  his  walks  by  the 
banks  of  the  river,  in  such  a  frame  of  mind 
as  we  have  described,  he  met  a  poor  woman 
whose  appearance  was  discomposed.  Naturally 
enough,  he  talked  with  her,  and  found  that  her 
husband  was  in  the  gaol  in  Oxford,  that  she 
had  run  away  from  home,  unable  to  endure  any 
longer  the  crying  of  her  children  from  hunger, 
and  that  she  even  then  meditated  drowning 
herself  He  gave  her  immediate  relief,  but 
arranged  with  her  to  meet  him,  and  see  her 
husband  together  in  the  evening  at  the  pris- 
on. He  appears  to  have  done  them  both 
good,  ministering  to  their  temporal  necessities; 
he  prayed  with  them,  brought  them  to  the 
knowledge  of  the  grace  which  saves,  and  late 
on  in  life  he  says,  ''They  are  both  now  living, 
and  I  trust  will  be  my  joy  and  crown  of  rejoic- 
ing in  the  day  of  the  Lord  Jesus."  Happy  is 
the  man  to  whose  life  such  an  incident  as  this  • 
is  given  ;  it  calls  life  away  from  its  dreary 
introspections,  and  sets  it  upon  a  trail  of  out- 
wardness, which  is  spiritual  health  ;  no  one 
can  attain  to -much  religious  happiness  until  he 
knows  that  he  has  been  the  means  of  good  to 
some  suffering  soul.     Faith  grows  in  us  by  the 


Oxford:  New  Lights  and  Old  Lanterns.   57 

revelation  that  we  have  been  used  to  do  good 
to  others. 

It  was  about  this  time  that  Charles  Wesley 
met  Whitefield  moodily  walking  through  the 
college  corridors.  The  misery  of  his  appear- 
ance struck  him,  and  he  invited  him  to  his 
rooms  to  breakfast.  The  memory  of  the  meet-  ' 
ing  never  passed  away  ;  Charles  Wesley  refers 
to  it  in  his  elegy  on  Whitefield.  In  a  short 
time  he  leaped  forth  into  spiritual  freedom,  and 
almost  immediately  became,  youth  as  he  was, 
preacher,  and  we  may  almost  say,  apostle. 
The  change  in  his  mind  seems  to  have  been  as 
instantaneous  and  as  luminous  as  Luther's  at 
Erfurt.  Whitefield  was  at  work,  commencing 
upon  his  own  great  scale,  long  before  the  Wes- 
ieys.  John  had  to  go  to  America,  and  to  be 
entangled  there  by  his  High  Church  notions  ; 
and  then  there  were  his  Moravian  proclivities, 
so  that,  altogether,  years  passed  by  before  he 
fcftmd  his  way  out  into  a  light  so  clear  as  to  be 
able  to  reflect  it  on  the  minds  of  others. 

To  some  of  the  members  of  this  "  Holy  Club," 
we  shall  not  be  able  to  refer  again;  we  must,  ^ 
therefore,  mention  them  now.  Especially  is 
some  reference  due  to  James  Hervey;  his  name 
is  now  rather  a  legend  and  tradition  than  an 
active  influence  in  our  religious  literature  ;  but 
how  popular  once,  do  not  the  oldest  memories 


58  The  Great  Revival. 

amongst  us  well  know?  On  some  important 
points  of  doctrine  he  parted  company  from  his 
friends  and  fellow-students,  the  Wesleys.  John 
Wesley  used  to  declare  that  he  himself  was  not 
.converted  till  his  thirty-seventh  year,  so  that 
we  must  modify  any  irnpressions  we  may  have 
from  similar  declarations  made  by  the  amiable 
Vicar  of  Weston  Favel :  the  term  conversion, 
used  in  such  a  sense,  in  all  probability  means 
simply  a  change  in  the  point  of  view,  an  alter- 
ation of  opinion,  giving  a  more  clear  apprehen- 
sion of  truth.  Hervey  was  always  infirm  in 
health,  tall,  spectral;  and,  while  possessing  a 
mind  teeming  with  pleasing  and  poetic  fancies, 
and  a  power  of  perceiving  happy  analogies,  we 
should  regard  him  as  singularly  wanting  in  that 
fine  solvent  of  all  true  genius,  geniality.  Hence, 
all  his  letters  read  like  sermons;  but  his  poor,  in- 
firm frame  was  the  tabernacle  of  an  intensely  fer- 
vent soul.  Shortly  after  his  settlement  in  his  vil- 
lage in  Northamptonshire  he  was  recommended 
by  his  physician  to  follow  the  plough,  that  he 
might  receive  the  scent  of  the  fresh  earth;  a  cu- 
rious recommendation,  but  it  led  to  a  conversa- 
tion with  the  ploughman,  which  completely  over- 
turned the  young  scholar's  scheme  of  theology. 
The  ploughman  was  a  member  of  the  Church 
of  Dr.  Doddridge,  afterwards  one  of  Hervey's 
most   intimate   friends.     As   they  walked   to- 


Oxford:  New  Lights  and  Old  Lanterns,  59 

gether,    the    young    minister   asked    the    old 
ploughman  what  he  thought  was  the  hardest 
thing   in   religion  ?     The   ploughman  very  re- 
spectfully returned  the  question.     Hervey  re- 
r  plied,  **I  think  the  hardest  thing  in  religion  is 
to  deny  sinful  self,"  and  he  proceeded,  at  some 
length,  of  course,  to  dilate  upon  and  expound 
the  difficulty,  from  which  our  readers  will  see 
that,   at  this  time,  his  mind  must  have  been 
under  the  same  influences  as  those  we  meet  in 
The  Imitation    of  Thomas    a-Kempis.      "■  No, 
sir,"   said   the   old   ploughman,    ''the    hardest 
thing  in  religion  is  to  deny  righteous  self,"  and 
he   proceeded   to   unfold  the  principles  of.  his 
faith.       At    the    time,    Hervey    thought    the 
ploughman  a  fool,  but  the  conversation  was  not 
forgotten,    and   he   declares   that   it   was   this 
view  of  things  which  created  for  him  a  new 
creed.     Our  readers,  perhaps,  know  his  Theron 
and  Aspasia:  we  owe  that  book  to  the  conver- 
sation with  the  ploughman;  all  its  pages,  alive 
with  descriptions  of  natural  scenery,  historical 
and  classical  allusion,  and  glittering  with  chro- 
matic fancy  through  the  three  thick  volumes, 
are   written   for  the  purpose  of  unfolding  and 
enforcing — to  put  it  in  old  theological  phraseol- 
ogy— the  imputed  and  imparted  righteousness 
of  Christ,  the  great  point  of  divergence  in  teach- 
ing between  Hervey  and  John  Wesley. 


6o  The  Great  Revival. 

Thus  the  term  Methodism  cannot,  any  more 
than  Christianity,  be  contented  with,  or  con- 
tained in  one  particular  line  of  opinion.  Thus, 
for  instance,  among  the  members  of  the  ''  Holy 
Club"  we  find  the  two  Wesleys  and  others  dis- 
tinctly Arminian — the  apostles  of  that  form  of 
thought  which  especially  teaches  us  that  we 
must  attain  to  the  grace  of  God  ;  while  White- 
field  first,  and  Hervey  afterwards,  became  the 
teachers  of  that  doctrine  which  announces  the 
irresistible  grace  of  God  as  that  which  is  out- 
side of  us,  and  comes  down  upon  us.  No  doubt 
the  doctrines  were  too  sharply  separated  by 
their  respective  leaders.  In  the  ultimate  issue, 
both  believed  alike  that  all  was  of  grace,  and 
all  of  God  ;  but  experience  makes  every  man's 
point  of  view  ;  as  he  feels,  so  he  sees.  The 
grand  thought  about  all  these  men  in  this 
Great  Revival  was  that  they  believed  in,  and 
untiringly  and  with  immense  confidence  an- 
nounced, that  which  smote  upon  the  minds  of 
their  hearers  almost  like  a  new  revelation  ;  in 
an  age  of  indifference  and  Deism  they  declared 
that  ''  the  grace  of  God  hath  appeared  unto  all 
men." 

There  is  a  very  interesting  anecdote  showing 
how,  about  this  time,  even  the  massive  and 
sardonic  intellect  of  Lord  Bolingbroke  almost 
gave   way.     He   was   called   upon   once  by  a 


Oxford:  New  Lights  and  Old  Lanterns.  6i 

High  Church  dignitary,  his  intimate  friend,  Dr. 
Church,  Vicar  of  Battersea,  and  Prebendary  of 
St.  Paul's,  to  whom  we  have  ah*eady  referred  as 
from  the  first  opposed  to  the  Revival,  and,  to 
the  doctor's  amazement,  he  found  Bolingbroke 
reading  Calvin's  Lnstitiites.  The  peer  asked 
the  preacher,  the  infidel  the  professed  Chris- 
tian, what  he  thought  of  it.  "Oh,"  said  the 
doctor,  **  we  think  nothing  of  such  antiquated 
stuff;  we  think  it  enough  to  preach  the  import- 
ance of  morality  and  virtue,  and  have  long 
given  up  all  that  talk  about  Divine  grace." 
Bolingbroke's  face  and  eyes  were  a  study  at  all 
times,  but  we  could  wish  to  have  seen  him  turn 
in  his  chair,  and  fix  his  eyes  on  the  vicar  as  he 
said  :  ''  Look  you,  doctor.  You  know  I  don't 
believe  the  Bible  to  be  a  Divine  revelation,  but 
those  who  do  can  never  defend  it  but  upon  the 
principle  of  the  doctrine  of  Divine  grace.  To  say 
the  truth,  there  have  been  times  when  I  have  been 
almost  persuaded'  to  believe  it  upon  this  view  of 
things;  and  there  is  one  argument  I  have  felt 
which  has  gone  very  far  with  me  on  behalf  of  its 
authenticity,  which  is,  that  the  belief  in  it 
exists  upon  earth  even  when  committed  to  the 
care  of  such  as  you,  who  pretend  to  believe  in 
it,  and  yet  deny  the  only  principle  upon  which 
it  is  defensible."  The  worn-out  statesman  and 
hard-headed  old  peer  hit  the  question  of  his 


62 


The  Great  Revival. 


own  day,  and  forecast  all  the  sceptical  strife  of 
ours  ;  for  all  such  questions  are  summed  in  one, 


^: 


WESTON    FAVEL  CHURCH, 

(Where  James  Hervey  Preached.) 


Is  there  supernatural  grace,  and  has  that  grace 
appeared  unto  men  ?     This  was  the  one  faith 


Oxford:  New  Lights  and  Old  Lanterns.  63 

of  all  these  revivalists.  The  world  was  eager 
to  hear  it,  for  the  aching  heart  of  the  world 
longs  to  believe  that  it  is  true.  The  conversa- 
tion we  have  recited  shows  that  even  Boling- 
broke  wished  that  it  might  be  true. 

The  new  creed  of  Hervey  changed  the  whole 
character  of  his  preaching.  The  little  church 
of  Weston  Favel,  a  short  distance  from  the 
town  of  Northampton,  became  quite  a  shrine 
for  pilgrimages  ;  he  was  often  compelled  to 
preach  in  the  churchyard.  He  was  assuredly  an 
intense  lover  of  natural  scenery,  a  student  of 
natural  theology  of  the  old  school.  His  writing 
is  now  said  to  be  meretricious  and  gaudy. 
One  critic  says  that  children  will  always  prefer 
a  red  to  a  white  sugar-plum,  and  that  the  tea 
is  nicer  to  them  when  they  drink  it  from  a 
cup  painted  with  coloured  flowers  ;  and  this, 
perhaps,  not  unfairly,  describes  the  style  of 
Hervey  ;  we  have  prettiness  rather  than  power, 
elegant  disquisition  rather  than  nervous*expres- 
sion,  which  is  all  the  more  wonderful,  as  he 
must  have  been  an  accomplished  Latin  scholar. 
But  he  had  a  mind  of  gorgeous  fullness,  and  his 
splendid  conceptions  bore  him  into  a  train  of 
what  now  seem  almost  glittering  extrava- 
gances. Hervey  was  in  the  manner  of  his  life 
a  sickly  recluse,  and  we  easily  call  up  the  figure 
of  the   old   bachelor — for  he  never  married — 


64  The  Great  Revival. 

alternately  watching  his  saucepan  of  gruel  on 
the  fire,  and  his  favourite  microscope  on  the 
study  table.  He  was  greatly  beloved  by  the 
Countess  of  Huntingdon,  perhaps  yet  more  by 
Lady  Fanny  Shirley — the  subject  of  Walpole's 
sneer.  He  was,  no  doubt,  the  writer  of  the 
movement,  and  its  thoughts  in  his  books  must 
have  seemed  like  ''  butter  in  a  lordly  dish." 
But  his  course  was  comparatively  brief ;  his 
work  was  accomplished  at  the  age  of  forty-five. 
He  died  in  his  chair,  his  last  words,  "  Lord, 
now  lettest  Thou  Thy  servant  depart  in  peace, 
for  mine  eyes  have  seen  Thy  most  comfortable 
salvation  ;"  shortly  after,  '^  The  conflict  is  over  ; 
all  is  done  ;"  the  last  words  of  all,  *'  Precious 
salvation."  And  so  passed  away  one  of  the 
most  amiable  and  accomplished  of  all  the  re- 
vivalists. 

John  Gambold,  although  ever  an  excellent 
and  admirable  man,  lived  the  life  rather  of  a 
secluded  mystic,  than  that  of  an  active  reformer. 
He  became  a  minister  of  the  Church  of  Eng- 
land, but  afterwards  left  that  communion,  not 
from  any  dissensions  either  from  the  doctrines 
or  the  discipline  of  the  Church,  but  simply 
because  he  found  his  spiritual  relationships 
more  in  harmony  with  those  of  the  Moravians, 
of  whose  Church  he  died  a  bishop.  We  pre- 
sume   few    readers   are   acquainted    with    his 


Oxford:  New  Lights  and  Old  Lanterns.  65 

poetical  works  ;  nor  are  there  many  words 
among  them  of  remarkable  strength.  The 
Mystery  of  Life  is  certainly  pleasingly  impres- 
sive ;  and  his  epitaph  on  himself  deserves 
quotation  : 

*'Ask  not,  '  Who  ended  here  his  span  ?' 
His  name,  reproach,  and  praise,  was  Man. 
'  Did  no  great  deeds  adorn  his  course  ?' 
No  deed  of  his  but  showed  him  worse  : 
One  thing  was  great,  which  God  supplied. 
He  suffered  human  life — and  died. 
'  What  points  of  knowledge  did  he  gain  ?' 
That  life  was  sacred  all — and  vain  : 
*  Sacred,  how  high  ?  and  vain,  how  low  ?' 
He  knew  not  here,  but  died  to  know." 

Such  were  some  of  the  men  who  went  forth 
from  Oxford.  Meantime,  as  the  flame  of  revival 
was  spreading,  Oxford  again  starts  into  singu- 
lar notice  ;  how  the  "  Holy  Club "  escaped 
official  censure  and  condemnation  seems* 
strange,  but  in  1768  the  members  of  a  similar 
club  were,  for  meeting  together  for  prayer  and 
reading  the  Scriptures,  all  summarily  expelled 
from  the  university.  Their  number  was  seven. 
Several  of  the  heads  of  houses  spoke  in  their 
favour,  the  principal  of  their  own  hall.  Dr. 
Dixon,  moved  an  amendment  against  their  ex- 
pulsion, on  the  ground  of  their  admirable  con- 
duct and  exemplary  piety.  Not  a  word  was 
alleged  against  them,  only  that  some  of  them 


66  The  Great  Revival. 

were  the  sons  of  tradesmen,  and  that  all  of  them 
''held  Methodistical  tenets,  taking  upon  them 
to  pray,  read  and  expound  the  Scriptures,  and 
sing  hymns  at  private  houses."  These  practices 
were  considered  as  hostile  to  the  Articles  and 
interests  of  the  Church  of  England,  and  sen- 
tence was  pronounced  against  them. 

Of  course  this  expulsion  created  a  great  agi- 
tation at  the  time  ;  and  as  the  moral  character 
of  the  young  men  was  so  perfectly  unimpeach- 
able, it  no  doubt  greatly  aided  the  cause  of  the 
Revival.  Dr.  Home,  Bishop  of  Norwich,  author 
of  the  Commentary  On  the  Psalms — no  Meth- 
odist, although  an  admirable  and  evangelical 
man — denounced  the  measure  in  a  pamphlet 
in  the  strongest  terms.  The  well-known  wit 
and  Baptist  minister  of  Devonshire  Square  in 
London,  Macgowan,  lashed  the  transaction  in 
his  piece  called  The  Shaver.  All  the  young 
men  seem  to  have  turned  out  well.  Some,  like 
Thomas  Jones,  who  afterwards  became  curate 
of  Clifton,  and  married  the  sister  of  Lady 
Austen,  Cowper's  friend — found  admission  into 
the  Church  of  England  ;  the  others  instantly 
found  help  from  the  Countess  of  Huntingdon, 
who  sent  them  to  finish  their  studies  at  her 
college  in  Trevecca,  and  afterwards  secured 
them  places  in  connection  with  her  work  of 
evangeHsation.    The  transaction  gives  a  singu- 


Oxford:  Nezv  Lights  and  Old  Lanterns.  67 

lar  idea  of  what  Oxford  was  in  1768,  and  pre- 
pares us  for  the  vehement  persecutions  by 
which  the  representatives  of  Oxford  all  over 
the  country  armed  themselves  to  resist  the 
Revival,  whilst  it  justifies  our  designation  of 
this  chapter,  ''  New  Lights  and  Old  Lanterns." 


68  The  Gi'eat  Revival. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

CAST    OUT     FROM    THE    CHURCH — TAKING  TO 
THE   FIELDS. 

It  was  field-preaching,  preaching  in  the  open 
air,  which  first  gave  national  distinctiveness  to 
the  Revival,  and  constituted  it  a  movement. 
Assuredly  any  occasions  of  excitement  we  have 
known,  give  no  idea  whatever  of  the  immense 
agitations  which  speedily  rolled  over  the  coun- 
try, from  one  end  to  the  other,  when  these  great 
revivalists  began  their  work  in  the  fields.  And 
the  excitement  continued,  rolling  on  through 
London,  and  through  the  counties  of  England, 
from  the  west  to  the  north,  not  for  days,  weeks, 
or  months  merely,  but  through  long  years,  until 
the  religious  life  of  the  land  was  entirely  re- 
kindled, and  its  morals  and  manners  re-mould- 
ed; and  all  this,  especially  in  its  origination, 
without  money,  no  large  sums  being  subscribed 
or  guaranteed  to  sustain  the  work.  The  work 
was  done,  not  only  without  might  or  power,  but 
assuredly  in  the  very  teeth  of  the  malevolence 
of  might  and  of  power;  nor  is  it  too  much  to 
say  that  it  probably  would  not  have  been  done, 


Cast  out  from  the  Chiwch.  69 

could  not  have  been  done,  had  the  churches, 
chapels,  and  great  cathedrals  been  thrown  open 
to  the  preachers. 

It  seems  a  singular  thing  to  say,  but  we 
should  speak  of  Whitefield  as  the  Luther  of  this 
Great  Revival,  and  of  Wesley  as  its  Calvin. 
Both  in  the  quality  of  their  work  and  in  their 
relation  in  point  of  time,  this  analogy  is  not  so 
unnatural  as  it  perhaps  seems  at  first.  The  im- 
petuosity and  passion,  the  vehemence  and 
sleepless  vigilance  of  Whitefield  first  broke 
open  the  way;  the  calm,  cautious,  frequently 
even  nervously  timid  intelligence  of  Wesley 
organised  the  work. 

How  could  a  writer,  in  a  recent  number  of 
the  Edinburgh  Review,  say:  ''It  is  a  great 
mistake  to  complain,  as  so  many  do,  that  the 
Church  cast  out  the  Wesleys.  We  have  seen 
at  the  beginning  how  kindly,  and  even  cor- 
dially, they  were  treated  by  the  leading  mem- 
bers of  the  episcopate."  Surely  any  history  of 
Methodism  contradicts  this  statement.  Bishop 
Benson,  indeed,  ordained  Whitefield,  but  he 
bitterly  lamented  to  the  Countess  of  Hunting- 
don that  he  had  done  so,  attributing  to  him 
what  seemed  to  the  Bishop  the  mischief  of  the 
evangelical  movement.  "My  lord,"  said  the 
Countess,  ''mark  my  words:  when  you  are  on 
your  dying  bed,  that  will  be  one  of  the  few  or- 


yo  The  Great  Revival. 

dinations  you  will  reflect  upon  with  complais- 
ance." 

The  words  were,  in  a  remarkable  degree, 
prophetic;  when  the  Bishop  was  on  his  death- 
bed he  sent  ten  guineas  to  Mr.  Whitefield  as  a 
token  of  his  **  regard,  veneration,  and  affec- 
tion," and  beggfed  the  great  field-preacher  to 
remember  him  in  prayer.  If  the  bishops  were 
kind  and  cordial  to  the  first  Methodists,  they 
certainly  took  a  singular  way  of  dissembling 
their  love.  For  instance,  Bishop  Lavington, 
of  Exeter,  whose  well-known  two  volumes  on 
Methodism  are  really  a  curiosity  of  episcopal 
scurrility,  was  in  a  passion  with  everything- that 
looked  like  Whitefieldism  in  his  diocese.  Mr. 
Thomson,  the  Vicar  of  St.  Gennys,  was  a  dissi- 
pated clergyman,  a  character  of  known  immor- 
ality ;  he  was  a  rich  man,  and  not  dependent 
upon  his  vicarage.  In  the  midst  of  his  sinful 
life  conscience  was  arrested;  he  became  con- 
verted ;  he  countenanced  and  threw  open  his 
pulpit  to  Mr.  Whitefield;  he  became  now  as  re- 
markable for  his  devout  life  and  fervent  gospel 
preaching  as  he  had  been  before  for  his  ungod- 
liness. What  made  it  all  the  worse  was,  that 
he  was  a  man  of  real  genius.  Now  all  his 
brethren  in  the  ministry  disowned  him,  and 
closed  their  pulpits  against  him;  and  presently 
Bishop  Lavington  summoned   him  to   appear 


Cast  out  from  tJie  Church.  ji 

before  him  to  answer  the  charges  made  against 
him  by  his  brethren  for  his  Methodistical  prac- 
tices. *'  Sir,"  said  the  Bishop,  in  the  course  of 
conversation,  ''if  you  pursue  these  practices, 
and  countenance  Whitefield,  I  will  strip  your 
gown  from  off  you."  Mr.  Thomson  had  on  his 
gown  at  the  time — more  frequently  worn  by 
ministers  of  the  Church  then  than  now.  To 
the  amazement  of  the  Bishop,  Mr.  Thomson 
exclaimed,  ''  I  will  save  your  lordship  the 
trouble  !"  He  took  off  his  gown,  dropped  it  at 
the  Bishop's  feet,  saying,  ''  My  lord,  I  can 
preach  without  cL  gown  !"  and  before  the  Bishop 
could  recover  from  his  astonishment  he  was 
gone.  This  was  an  instance,  however,  in 
which  the  Bishop  was  so  decidedly  in  the 
wrong  that  he  sent  for  the  vicar  again,  apolo- 
gised to  him  ;  and  the  circumstance,  indeed, 
led  to  the  entertainment  by  the  Bishop  of 
views  which  were  somewhat  milder  with  refer- 
ence to  Methodism  than  those  which  still  give 
notoriety  to  his  name. 

Southey,  in  his  certainly  not  impartial  vol- 
umes, admits  that,  for  the  most  part,  the  con- 
dition of  the  clergy  was  dreadful;  it  is  not  won- 
derful that  they  closed  their  churches  against 
the  innovators.  There  was,  for  instance,  the 
Vicar  of  Colne,  the  Rev.  George  White  ;  when 
the  preachers  came  into  his  neighbourhood,  it 

*Appenrlix  E. 


72  The  Great  Revival, 

was  his  usual  practice  to  call  his  parishioners 
together  by  the  beat  of  a  drum,  to  issue  a 
proclamation  at  the  market-cross,  and  enlist  a 
mob  for  the  defence  of  the  Church  against  the 
Methodists.  Here  is  a  copy  of  the  proclama- 
tion, a  curiosity  in  its  way  :  ''Notice  is  hereby 
given  that  if  any  man  be  mindful  to  enlist  in 
His  Majesty's  service,  under  the  command  of 
the  Rev.  Mr.  George  White,  Commander-^in- 
Chief,  and  John  Bannister,  Lieutenant-General 
of  His  Majesty's  forces  for  the  defence  of  the 
Church  of  England,  and  the  support  of  the 
manufactory  in  and  about  Colne,  both  which 
are  now  in  danger,  let  him  repair  to  the  drum- 
head at  the  Cross,  where  each  man  shall  re- 
ceive a  pint  of  ale  in  advance,  and  all  other 
proper  encouragements."  Such  are  some  of  the 
instances,  which  might  be  multiplied  to  any 
extent,  showing  the  reception  given  to  the  re- 
vivalists by  the  clergy  of  the  time.  But  let  no 
reader  suppose  that,  in  reciting  these  things, 
we  are  willingly  dwelling  upon  facts  not  credit- 
able to  the  Church,  or  that  we  forget  how 
many  of  her  most  admirable  members  have 
made  an  abundant  amende  ho7iorable  by  their 
eulogies  since;  nor  are  we  forgetting  that  Non- 
conformist chapels,  whose  cold  respectabiHty 
of  service  and  theology  were  sadly  outraged  by 
the    new    teachers,    were    not    more    readily 


Cast  out  from  the  Church.  73 

opened  than  the  churches  were  to  men  with 
whom  the  Word  of  the  Lord  was  as  a  fire,  or 
as  a  hammer  to  break  the  rock  in  pieces.^ 

Whitefield  soon  felt  his  power.  Immediately 
after  his  ordination,  he  in  some  way  became  for 
a  time  an  occasional  supply  at  the  chapel  in  the 
Tower;  he  found  a  straggling  congregation  of 
twenty  or  thirty  hearers;  after  a  service  or  two 
the  place  was  overflowing,  and  remained  so. 
During  his  short  residence  in  that  neighbour- 
hood the  youth  continued  throughout  the 
whole  week  preaching  to  the  soldiers,  preach- 
ing to  prisoners,  holding  services  on  Sunday 
mornings  for  young  men  before  the  ordinary 
service.  He  was  still  ostensibly  at  Oxford;  a 
profitable  living  was  offered  to  him  in  London, 
and  instantly  declined.  He  went  to  Glouces- 
ter, to  Bristol,  to  Kingswood.  Of  course  it  is 
impossible  to  follow  Whitefield  step  by  step 
through  his  career;  we  can  only  rapidly  bring 
out  a  crayon  sketch  of  the  chief  features  of  his 
work.  He  made  voyages  to  Georgia;  voyaging 
was  no  pastime  in  those  days,  and  he  spent  a 
great  amount  of  time  in  transit  to  and  fro  on 
the  seas;  our  business  with  him  is  chiefly  as 
the  first  field-preacher;  and  Kingswood,  near 
Bristol,  appears  to  have  been  the  first  place 
where  this  great  v/ork  was  to  be  tried.  It  was 
then,  what  it  is  still,  a  region  of  rough  collieries, 

*Appendix  F. 


74 


The  Great  Revival. 


the  Black  Country  of  the  West;  the  people 
themselves  were  of  the  roughest  order.  White- 
field  spoke  at  Bristol,  to  some  friends,  of  his 
probable   speedy  embarkation   to   preach   the 


GEORGE   WHITEFIELD. 


Gospel  among  the  Indians  of  America;  and 
they  said  to  him,  ''  What  need  of  going  abroad 
to  do  this?  Have  we  not  Indians  enough  at 
home  ?    If  you  have  a  mind  to  convert  Indians, 


Cast  out  from  the  Church.  75 

there  are  colliers  enough  in  Kingswood  ! "  A 
savage  race  !  As  to  taking  to  the  fields  in  this 
instance,  it  was  simply  a  necessity;  there  were 
no  churches  firom  whence  the  preacher  could  be 
ejected.  Try  to  realize  it:  the  heathen  society, 
indoctrinated  only  in  brutal  sports;  the  rough, 
black  labour  only  typical  of  the  rough,  black 
minds,  the  rough,  black  souls.  Surely  he  must 
have  been  a  very  brave  man;  nor  was  he  one 
at  all  of  that  order  of  apostles  whose  native 
roughness  is  well  fitted,  it  seems,  to  challenge 
roughness  to  civility. 

Whitefield  was  a  perfect  gentleman,  of  man- 
ners most  affectionate  and  amiable;  altogether 
the  most  unlikely  creature,  it  seems,  to  rise  tri- 
umphant over  the  execrations  of  a  mighty  mob. 
The  oratory  of  Whitefield  seems  to  us  almost 
the  greatest  mystery  in  the  history  of  elo- 
quence: his  voice  must  have  been  wonderful; 
its  strength  was  overwhelming,  but  it  was  not 
a  roar;  its  modulations  and  inflections  were 
equal  to  its  strength,  so  that  it  had  the  all- 
commanding  tones  of  a  bell  in  its  clearness,  and 
all  the  modulations  of  an  organ  in  its  variety 
and  sweetness.  Kingswood  only  stands  as  a 
representative  of  crowds  of  other  such  places, 
where  savages  fell  before  the  enchantment  of 
his  sweet  music.  Read  any  accounts  of  him, 
and  it  will  be  seen  that  we  do  not  exaggerate 


76  The  Great  Revival. 

in  speaking  of  him  as  the  very  Orpheus  of  the 
pulpit.  Assuredly,  as  it  has  been  said  Orpheus, 
by  the  power  of  his  music,  drew  trees,  stones, 
the  frozen  mountain-tops,  and  the  floods  to 
bow  to  his  melody,  so  men, '' stockish,  hard, 
and  full  of  rage,"  felt  a  change  pass  over  their 
nature,  as  they  came  under  the  spell  of  White- 
field.  Yet,  perhaps,  he  would  not  have  gone 
to  Kingswood  had  he  not  been  inhibited  from 
preaching  in  the  Bristol  churches.  He  had 
preached  in  St.  Mary  Redcliff,  and  the  follow- 
ing day  had  preached  opening  sermons  in  the 
parish  church  of  SS.  Philip  and  Jacob,  and  then 
he  was  called  before  the  Chancellor  of  the  dio- 
cese, who  asked  him  for  his  licence  by  which  he 
was  permitted  to  preach  in  that  diocese.  White- 
field  said  he  was  an  ordained  minister  of  the 
Church  of  England,  and  as  to  the  special  licence, 
it  was  obsolete.  *'  Why  did  you  not  ask,"  he  said, 
"for  the  licence  of  the  clergyman  who  preached 
for  you  last  Thursday  t "  The  Chancellor  re- 
plied, *'That  is  no  business  of  yours."  White- 
field  said,  ''There  is  a  canon  forbidding  clergy- 
men to  frequent  taverns  and  play  at  cards, 
why  is  that  not  enforced.?"  The  Chancellor 
evaded  this,  but  charged  Whitefield  with 
preaching  false  doctrine;  Whitefield  replied  that 
he  preached  what  he  knew  to  be  the  truth,  and 
he  would  continue  to  preach.     ''  Then,"  said  the 


Cast  out  from  the  Church.  yj 

Chancellor,  ''  I  will  excommunicate  you ! "  The 
end  of  it  was  that  all  the  city  churches  were 
shut  against  him.  "But,"  he  says,  "if  they 
were  all  open,  they  would  not  contain  half 
the  people  who  come  to  hear.  So  at  three  in 
the  afternoon  I  went  to  Kingswood  among  the 
colliers."  Whitefield  laid  his  case  in  a  very  re- 
spectful letter,  before  the  Bishop,  but  on  he 
went.  As  to  Kingswood,  tears  poured  down 
the  black  faces  of  the  colliers;  the  great  au- 
diences are  described  as  being  drenched  in 
tears.  Whitefield  himself  was  in  a  passion  of 
tears.  ''  How  can  I  help  weeping,"  he  said  to 
them,"  when  you  have  not  wept  for  yourselves .? " 
And  they  began  to  weep.  Thus  in  1739  began 
the  mighty  work  at  Kingswood,  which  has  been 
a  great  Methodist  colony  from  that  day  to  this. 
That  was  a  good  morning's  work  for  the  cause 
of  Christ  when  the  Chancellor  shut  the  doors 
of  the  churches  of  Bristol  against  the  brave 
and  beautiful  preacher,  and  threatened  to  ex- 
communicate him.  Was  it  not  said  of  old, 
"Thou  makest  the  wrath  of  man  to  praise 
Thee".? 

Now,  then,  see  him  girt  and  road-ready  ;  we 
might  be  sure  that  the  example  of  the  Chan- 
cellor of  Bristol  would  be  pretty  generally 
followed.  The  old  ecclesiastical  corporations 
set  themselves  in  array  against  him  ;  but  how 


7 8  The  Great  Revival. 

• 
futile  the  endeavour  !  Their  canons  and 
rubrics  were  Hke  the  building  of  hedges  to 
confine  an  eagle,  and  they  only  left  him  with- 
out a  choice — without  any  choice  but  to  fulfil 
his  instinct  for  souls,  and  to  soar.  Other  "  little 
brief  authorities,"  mayors,  aldermen,  and  such 
like,  issued  their  fulminations.  Coming  to 
Basingstoke,  the  mayor,  one  John  Abbott, 
inhibited  him.  John  Abbott  seems  to  have 
been  a  burly  butcher.  The  intercourse  and 
correspondence  between  the  two  is  very 
humorously  charaateristic  ;  but,  although  it 
gives  an  insight  as  to  the  antagonism  which 
frequently  awaited  Whitefield,  it  is  too  long  to 
quote  in  this  brief  sketch.  The  butcher-mayor 
was  coarse  and  insolent  ;  Whitefield  never  lost 
his  sweet  graciousness  ;  writing  to  abusive 
butchers. or  abusive  bishops,  as  in  his  reply  to 
Lavington,  he  never  lost  his  temper,  never 
indulged  in  satire,  never  exhibits  .  any  great 
marks  of  genius,  writes  straight  to  the  point, 
simply  vindicates  himself  and  his  course,  never 
retracts,  never  apologises,  goes  straight  on. 

There  is  no  other  instance  of  a  preacher  who 
was  so  equally  at  home  and  equally  impressive 
and  commanding  in  the  most  various  and 
dissimilar  circles  and  scenes  ;  it  is  significant  of 
the  notice  he  excited  that  his  name  occurs  so 
frequently  in  the  correspondence  of  that  cold 


Cast  out  from  the  Chwch.  79 

and  heartless  man  and  flippant  sneerer,  Horace 
Walpole,  whose  allusions  to  him  are  usually 
disgraceful  ;  but  so  it  was,  he  was  equally  com- 
manding in  the  polished  and  select  circles  of 
the  drawing-room,  surrounded  by  dukes  and 
duchesses,  great  statesmen  and  philosophers, 
or  in  the  large  old  tabernacle  or  parish  church, 
surrounded  by  more  orderly  and  saintly  wor- 
shippers, or  in  nature's  vast  and  grand  cathe- 
drals, with  twenty  or  thirty  thousand  people 
around  him. 

From  the  day  when  he  went  to  Kingswood, 
we  may  run  a  rapid  eye  along  the  perspective 
of  his  career — in  fields,  on  heaths,  and  on  com- 
mons, it  was  the  same  everywhere  ;  from  his 
intense  life  we  might  find  many  scenes  for 
description  :  take  one  or  two.  On  the  breast 
of  the  mountain,  the  trees  and  hedges  full  of 
people,  hushed  to  profound  silence,  the  open 
firmament  above  him,  the  prospect  of  adjacent 
fields — the  sight  of  thousands  on  thousands  of 
people  ;  some  in  coaches,  some  on  horseback, 
and  all  affected,  or  drenched  in  tears.  Some- 
times evening  approaches,  and  then  he  says, 
"  Beneath  the  twilight  it  was  too  much  for  me, 
and  quite  overcame  me."  There  was  one 
night  never  to  be  forgotten.  While  he  was 
preaching  it  lightened  exceedingly  ;  his  spirit 
rose  on  the  tempest  ;  his  voice  tolled  out  the 


So  The  Great  Revival. 

doom  and  decay  hanging  over  all  nature  ;  he 
preached  the  warnings  and  the  consolations  of 
the  coming  of  the  Son  of  man.  The  thunder 
broke  over  his  head,  the  lightning  shone  along 
the  preacher's  path,  it  ran  along  the  ground  in 
wild  glares  from  one  part  of  heaven  to  the 
other  ;  the  whole  audience  shook  like  the 
leaves  of  a  forest  in  the  wind,  whilst  high 
amidst  the  thunders  and  the  lightnings,  the 
preacher's  voice  rose,  exclaiming,  *'  Oh,  my 
friends,  the  wrath  of  God  !  the  wrath  of  God  !" 
Then  his  spirit  seemed  to  pass  serenely  right 
through  the  tempest,  and  he  talked  of  Christ, 
who  swept  the  wrath  away  ;  and  then  he  told 
how  he  longed  for  the  time  when  Christ  should 
be  revealed,  amidst  the  flaming  fire,  consuming 
all  natural  things.  '*  Oh,"  exclaimed  he,  ''  that 
my  soul  may  be  in  a  like  flame  when  He  shall 
come  to  call  me  !"  Can  we  realize  what  his 
soul  must  have  been  who  could  burn  with  such 
seraphic  ardours  in  the  midst  of  such  scenes  ? 
So  he  opened  the  way  everywhere,  by  his 
field-preaching,  for  John  Wesley.  Truly  it  has 
been  said,  '*  Whitefield,  and  not  Wesley,  is  the 
prominent  figure  in  the  opening  of  the  Method- 
ist movement  ;"  and  the  time  we  must  assign 
to  this  first  popular  agitation  is  the  winter  of 
1738-39.  The  two  men  were  immensely  differ- 
ent.    To  Whitefield  the  preaching  was  no  light 


Cast  out  froj)i  the  Church, 


8i 


work  ;  it  was  not  talking.  After  one  of  his 
sermons,  drenched  through,  he  would  lie  down, 
spent,  sobbing,  exhausted,  death-like  :  John 
Wesley,  after  one  of  his  most  effective  sermons, 


WHITEFIELD  PREACHING  IN  LONDON. 

in  which  he  also  had  shaken  men's  souls,  would 
just  quietly  mount  his  little  pony,  and  ride  off 
to  the  next  village  or  town,  reading  his  book  as 
he   went,    or   stopping  by  the   way  to   pluck. 


82  TJie  Great  Revival. 

curious  flowers  or  simples  from  the  hedges  ; 
the  poise  of  their  spirits  was  so  different.  All 
great  movements  need  two  men,  Moses  and 
Aaron  ;  the  prophet  Elijah  must  go  before,  "to 
restore  all  things."  Whitefield  lived  in  the 
immediate  neighbourhood  and  breathed  the  air 
of  essential  truth  ;  Wesley  looked  at  men,  and 
saw  how  all  remained  undone  until  the  work 
took  coherency  and  shape.  As  he  says,  ''  I  was 
convinced  that  preaching  like  an  apostle,  with- 
out joining  together  those  that  are  awakened, 
and  training  them  up  in  the  ways  of  God,  is 
only  begetting  children  for  the  murderer." 
Whitefield  preached  like  an  apostle;  the  scenes 
we  have  described  appear  charming  rural 
scenes,  in  which  men's  hearts  were  bowed  and 
hushed  before  him  ;  but  there  were  widely 
different  scenes  when  he  defied  the  devil,  and 
sought  to  win  his  victims  away,  even  in  fairs 
and  wakes — the  most  wild  and  dissolute  periodi- 
cal pests  and  nuisances  of  the  age.  Rough 
human  nature  went  down  before  him,  as  in  the 
instance  of  the  man  who  came  with  heavy 
stones  to  pelt  him,  and  suddenly  found  his 
hands  as  it  were  tied,  and  himself  in  tears, 
and,  at  the  close,  went  up  to  the  preacher,  and 
said,  ''  I  came  here  only  to  break  your  head, 
and  you  have  broken  my  heart  !" 

But  the  roughs  of  London  seem  to  have  been 


Cast  out  from  the  Church.  83 

worse  than  the  roughs  of  Kingswood  ;  and  we 
cannot  wonder  that  men  Hke  Walpole,  and 
even  poHte  and  refined  religious  men,  thought 
that  a  man  who  could  go  right  into  St.  Bar- 
tholomew's'Fair,  in  Moorfields,  and  Finsbury, 
take  his  station  among  drummers,  trumpeters, 
merry-andrews,  harlequins,  and  all  kinds  of 
wild  beasts,  must  be  "mad";  it  must  have 
seemed  the  height  of  fanaticism,  like  preaching 
to  a  real  Gadarene  swinery.  All  the  historians 
of  the  movement — Sir  James  Stephen,  Dr. 
Abel  Stevens,  Dr.  Southey,  Isaac  Taylor,  and 
others,  recite  with  admiration  the  story  of  the 
way  in  which  he  wrestled  successfully  with  the 
merry-andrews.  He  began  to  preach  at  six 
o'clock  in  the  morning  ;  stones,  dirt,  rotten 
eggs  were  hurled  at  him.  "  My  soul  was 
among  lions,"  he  says ;  but  the  marvellous 
voice  overcame,  and  he  went  on  speaking,  and 
we  know  how  tenderly  he  would  speak  to 
them,  of  their  own  miseries,  and  the  dangers  of 
their  own  sins  ;  the  great  multitude — it  was 
between  twenty  and  thirty  thousand — '*  be- 
came like  lambs;"  he  finished,  went  away,  and, 
in  the  wilder  time — in  the  afternoon — he  came 
again.  In  the  meantime  there  had  been  organi- 
sations to  put  him  down  :  here  was  a  man  with 
a  long  heavy  whip  to  strike  the  preacher; 
there  was  a  recruiting  sergeant  who  had  been 


84  The  Great  Revival, 

engaged  with  drum  and  fife  to  interrupt  him. 
As  he  appeared  on  the  outskirts  of  the  crowd, 
Whitefield,  who  well  knew  how  to  catch  the 
humour  of  the  people  too,  exclaimed,  "Make 
way  for  the  king's  officer  !"and  the  mob  divided, 
while,  to  his  surprise,  the  recruiting  officer,  with 
his  drum,  found  himself  immediately  beneath 
Whitefield  ;  it  was  easy  to  manage  him  now. 
The  crowd  around  roared  like  wild  beasts  ;  it 
must  have  been  a  tremendous  scene.  Will  it 
be  believed — it  seems  incredible — that  he  con- 
tinued there,  preaching,  praying,  singing,  until 
the  night  fell  ?  He  won  a  decided  victory,  and 
the  next  day  received  no  fewer  than  a  thousand 
notes  from  persons,  ''  brands  plucked  from  the 
burning,"  who  spoke  of  the  convictions  through 
which  they  had  passed,  and  implored  the 
preacher  to  remember  them  in  his  prayers. 

This  was  in  Moorfields,  in  which  neighbour- 
hood since,  the  followers  both  of  Wesley  and 
of  Whitefield  have  found  their  tabernacles  and 
most  eminent  fields  of  usefulness.  Many  have 
attempted  fair-preaching  since  Whitefield's 
day,  but  not,  we  believe,  with  much  success  ; 
it  needs  a  remarkable  combination  of  powers  to 
make  such  efforts  successful.  Whitefield  was 
able  to  attempt  to  outbid  the  showmen,  merry- 
andrews,  and  harlequins,  and  he  succeeded. 
No    wonder   they    called   him   a    fanatic;    he 


Cast  out  from  the  Church.  85 

might  have  said,  "  If  we  be  beside  ourselves,  it 
is  for  God,  that  by  all  means  we  may  save 
some  !" 

But  what  we  have  been  especially  desirous 
that  our  readers  should  note  is,  that  these  more 
vehement  manifestations  of  Methodism  were 
not  the  result  of  any  methodised  plan,  but  were 
a  simple  yielding  to,  and  taking  possession  of 
circumstances;  it  was  as  if  "  the  Spirit  of  the 
Lord"  came  down  upon  the  leaders,  and  ''  car- 
ried them  whither  they  knew  not." 


[For  an  account  of  Whitefield's  labours  in 
America,  and  the  spread  of  the  Great  Revival 
there,  the  reader  is  referred  to  the  supplement- 
al chapter  at  the  end  of  this  volume.] 


86  The  Great  Revival, 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  REVIVAL  CONSERVATIVE. 

Lord  Macaulay's  verdict  upon  John  Wes- 
ley, that  he  possessed  a  "  genius  for  govern- 
ment not  inferior  to  that  of  Richelieu,"  re- 
ceived immediate  demonstration  when  he  came 
actively  into  the  movement,  and  has  been 
abundantly  confirmed  since  his  death,  in  the 
history  of  the  society  which  he  founded.  It 
has  been  said  that  all  institutions  are  the  pro- 
longed shadow  of  one  mind,  and  that  by  the 
inclusiveness,  or  power  of  perpetuity  in  the  in- 
stitution, we  may  know  the  mind  of  the 
founder.  Much  of  our  last  chapter  was  devoted 
to  some  attempt  to  realise  the  place  and  power 
of  Whitefield  ;*  what  he  was  in  relation  to  the 
Revival  may  be  defined  by  the  remark,  often 
made,  and  by  capable  critics,  that  while  there  ^ 
have  been  multitudes  of  better  sermon-makers, 
it  is  uncertain  whether  the  Church  ever  had  so 
great  a  pulpit  orator.  In  Wesley's  mind  every- 
thing became  structural  and  organic;  he  was  a 

*See  Chapter  XIV.  for  his  place  and  power  in  America. 


The  Revival  Conservative.  ^j 

mighty  master  of  administration  ;  but  he  also 
followed  Whitefield's  example,  and  took  to  the 
fields;  and  very  great,  indeed,  amazing  results, 
followed  his  ministry. 

Many  of  the  incidents  which  are  impressive 
and  amusing  show  the  difference  between  the 
men.  Whitefield  overwhelmed  the  people  : 
Wesley  met  insolence  and  antagonism  by  some 
sharp,  concise,  and  cuttingly  appropriate  re- 
tort, which  was  remarkable,  considering  his 
stature.  But  both  his  presence  and  his  words 
must  have  been  unusually  commanding  :  ''  Be 
silent,  or  begone,"  he  turned  round  sharply 
and  said  once  to  some  violent  disturbers,  and 
they  were  obedient  to  the  command. 

Wesley's  rencontre  with  Beau  Nash  at  Bath 
is  a  fair  illustration  of  his  quiet  and  almost  ob- 
scurely sarcastic  method  of  confounding  a 
troublesome  person.  Preaching  in  the  open  air 
at  Bath,  the  King  of  Bath,  the  Master  of  the 
Ceremonies,  Nash,  was  so  unwise  as  to  attempt 
to  put  down  the  apostolic  man.  Nash's  char- 
acter was  bad;  it  was  that  of  an  idle,  heartless, 
licentious  dangler  on  the  skirts  of  high  society. 
He  appeared  in  the  crowd,  and  authoritatively 
asked  Wesley  by  what  right  he  dared  to  stand 
there.  The  congregation  was  not  wholly  of 
the  poor;  there  were  a  number  of  fashionable 
and   noble   persons  present,  and  among  them 


88  TJie  Great  Revival. 

many  with  whom  this  attack  had  been  pre- 
arranged, and  who  expected  to  see  the  discom- 
fiture of  the  Methodist  by  the  courtly  and 
fashionable  old  dandy.  Wesley  replied  to  the 
question  simply  and  quietly  that  he  stood  there 
by  the  authority  of  Jesus  Christ,  conveyed  to 
him  *'by  the  present  Archbishop  of  Canter- 
bury, when  he  laid  hands  on  me  and  said, 
'  Take  thou  authority  to  preach  the  Gospel  !'  " 
Nash  began  to  bustle  and  to  be  turbulent,  and 
he  exclaimed,  "  This  is  contrary  to  Act  of  Par- 
liament ;  this  is  a  conventicle."  '*  Sir,"  said 
Wesley,  *'  the  Act  you  refer  to  applies  to  sedi- 
tious meetings  :  here  is  no  sedition,  no  shadow 
of  sedition;  the  meeting  is  not,  therefore,  con- 
trary to  the  Act."  Nash  stormed,  ''  I  say  it  is; 
besides,  your  preaching  frightens  people  out  of 
their  wits."  "Sir,"  said  Wesley,  *' give  me 
leave  to  ask,  Did  you  ever  hear  me  preach  ?" 
*'  No  !"  "  How,  then,  can  you  judge  of  what  you 
have  never  heard  .?"  *'  Sir,  by  common  report." 
*'  Common  report  is  not  enough,"  said  Wesley; 
"  again  give  me  leave  to  ask  is  your  name  not 
Nash  ?"  ''  My  name  is  Nash."  And  then  the 
reader  must  imagine  Wesley's  thin,  clear, 
piercing  voice,  cutting  through  the  crowd : 
"  Sir,  I  dare  not  judge  of  you  by  common  re- 
port." There  does  not  seem  much  in  it,  but 
the  effect   was  overwhelming.     Nash  tried  to 


The  Revival  Conservative,  89 

bully  it  out  a  little;  but,  to  make  his  discomfi- 
ture complete,  the  people  took  up  the  case,  and 
especially  one  old  woman,  whose  daughter  had 
come  to  grief  through  the  fop,  in  her  way  so  set 
forth  his  sins  that  he  was  glad  to  retreat  in  dis- 
may. On  another  occasion,  when  attempts 
were  made  to  assault  Wesley,  there  was  some 
uncertainty  about  his  person,  and  the  assail- 
ants were  saying,  "Which  is  he?  which  is 
he  ?"  he  stood  still  as  he  was  walking  down 
the  crowded  street,  turned  upon  them,  and 
said,  ''  I  am  he  ;"  and  they  instantly  fell  back, 
awed  into  involuntary  silence  and  respect. 

It  is  characteristic  that  while  Whitefield 
simply  took  to  the  work  of  field-preaching,  and 
preaching  in  the  open  air,  and  troubled  himself 
very  little  about  finding  or  giving  reasons  for 
the  irregularity  of  the  proceeding,  Wesley  de- 
fended the  practice  with  formidable  arguments. 
It  is  remarkable  that  the  practice  should  have 
been  deemed  so  irregular,  or  should  need  vin- 
dication, considering  that  our  Lord  had  given 
to  it  the  sanction  of  His  example,  and  that  it 
had  been  adopted  by  the  apostles  and  fathers, 
the  greatest  of  the  Catholic  preachers,  and  the 
reformers  of  every  age.  A  history  of  field  and 
street-preaching  would  form  a  large  and  inter- 
esting chapter  of  Church  history.  Southey 
quotes  a  very  happy  series  of  arguments  from 


90  The  Great  Revival. 

one  of  Wesley's  appeals  :  *'  What  need  is 
there,"  he  says,  speaking  for  his  antagonists, 
**  of  this  preaching  in  the  fields  and  streets  ? 
Are  there  not  churches  enough  to  preach  in  ?" 
"No,  my  friend,  there  are  not,  not  for  us  to 
preach  in.  You  forget  we  are  not  suffered  to 
preach  there,  else  we  should  prefer  them  to  any 
place  whatever."  "  Well,  there  are  ministers 
enough  without  you."  "  Ministers  enough,  and 
churches  enough  !  For  what  t  To  reclaim  all 
the  sinners  within  the  four  seas  ">  and  one  plain 
reason  why  these  sinners  are  never  reclaimed 
is  this  :  they  never  come  into  a  church.  Will 
you  say,  as  some  tender-hearted  Christians  I 
have  heard,  *  Then  it  is  their  own  fault;  let 
them  die  and  be  damned  !'  I  grant  it  may  be 
their  own  fault,  but  the  Saviour  of  souls  came 
after  us,  and  so  we  ought  to  seek  to  save  that 
which  is  lost."  He  went  on  to  confess  the 
irregularity,  but  he  retorted  that  those  persons 
who  compelled  him  to  be  irregular  had  no  right 
to  censure  him  for  irregularity.  "  Will  they 
throw  a  man  into  the  dirt,"  said  he,  "  and  beat 
him  because  he  is  dirty  }  Of  all  men  living 
those  clergymen  ought  not  to  complain  who 
believe  I  preach  the  Gospel;  if  they  will  not  ask 
me  to  preach  in  their  churches,  they  are 
accountable  for  my  preaching  in  the  fields." 
This  is  a  fair  illustration  of  the  neat  shrewdness, 


The  Revival  Conservative.  91 

the  compact,  incisive  common  sense  of  Wes- 
ley's mind.  Thus  he  argued  himself  into  that 
sphere  of  labour  which  justified  him  in  after 
years  in  saying,  without  any  extravagance, 
**  The  world  is  my  parish." 

We  have  said  the  Revival  became  conserva- 
tive. It  is  true  the  Countess  of  Huntingdon 
did  much  to  make  it  so;  but  it  assumed  a  shape 
of  vitality,  and  a  force  of  coherent  strength, 
chiefly  from  the  touch  of  Wesley's  administra- 
tive mind.  The  present  City  Road  Chapel, 
which  was  opened  in  1776,  opposite  Bunhill 
Fields  Burial  Ground,  is  probably  the  first 
illustration  of  this  fact  ;  it  stands  where  stood 
the  Foundry — time-honoured  spot  in  the  history 
of  Methodism.  It  stood  in  Moorfields  ;  the 
City  Road  was  a  mere  lane  then.  The  build- 
ing had  been  used  by  government  for  casting 
cannon;  it  was  a  rude  ruin.  Wesley  purchased 
it  and  the  site  at  the  very  commencement  of 
his  work,  in  1739;  he  turned  it  into  a  temple. 
As  the  years  passed  on  it  became  the  cradle  of 
London  Methodism,  accommodating  fifteen 
hundred  people.  Until  within  twenty  years  of 
Wesley's  purchase  this  had  been  a  kind  of 
Woolwich  Arsenal  to  the  government;  it  be- 
came a  temple  of  peace,  and  here  came  "  band- 
rooms,"  school-rooms,  book-rooms — the  first 
saplings  of  Methodist  usefulness. 


9        I 


92  The  Great  Revival. 

It  has  been  truly  said  by  a  writer  In  the  Brit- 
ish Quarterly,  that  the  most  romantic  Hves  of 
the  saints  of  the  Roman  CathoHc  calendar  do 


JOHN    WESLEV. 


not  present  a  more  startling  succession  of 
incidents  than  those  which  meet  us  in  the  life 
and  labours  of  Wesley.     Romish  stories  claim 


TJie  Revival  Conservative.  93 

that  Blessed  Raymond,  of  Pegnafort,  spread 
his  cloak  upon  the  sea  to  transport  him  across 
the  water,  sailing  one  hundred  and  sixty  miles 
in  six  hours,  and  entering  his  convent  through 
closed  doors  !  The  devout  and  zealous  Francis 
Xavier  spent  three  whole  days  in  two  different 
places  at  the  same  time,  preaching  all  the 
while  !  Rome  shines  out  in  transactions  like 
these  :  Wesley  does  not  ;  but  he  seems  to 
have  been  almost  ubiquitous,  and  he  moves 
with  a  rapidity  reminding  us  of  that  flying 
angel  who  had  the  everlasting  Gospel  to  preach, 
and  he  shines  alike  in  his  conflicts  with  nature 
and  the  still  wilder  tempests  caused  by  the 
passions  of  men.  We  read  of  his  travelling, 
through  the  long  wintry  hours,  two  hundred 
and  eighty  miles  on  horseback,  in  six  days;  it 
was  a  wonderful  feat  in  those  times.  When 
Wesley  first  began  his  itinerancy  there  were  no 
turnpikes  in  the  country  ;  but  before  he  closed 
his  career,  he  had  probably  paid  more,  says 
Dr.  Southey,  for  turnpikes,  than  any  other  man 
in  England,  for  no  other  man  in  England 
travelled  so  much.  His  were  no  pleasant 
journeys,  as  of  summer  days  ;  he  travelled 
through  the  fens  of  Lincolnshire  when  the 
waters  were  out  ;  and  over  the  fells  of  North- 
umberland when  they  were  covered  with  snow. 
Speaking  of  one  tremendous  journey,  through 


94  The  Great  Revival. 

dreadful  weather,  he  says,  *'  Many  a  rough 
journey  have  I  had  before  ;  but  one  like  this  I 
never  had,  between  wind  and  hail,  and  rain, 
and  ice,  and  snow,  and  driving  sleet,  and 
piercing  cold  ;  but  it  is  past.  Those  days  will 
return  no  more,  and  are  therefore  as  though 
they  had  never  been. 

*'  '  And  pain,  like  pleasure,  is  a  dream  !'  " 

How  singular  was  his  visit  to  Epworth, 
where  he  found  the  church  of  his  childhood,  his 
father's  church,  the  church  of  his  own  first 
ministrations,  closed  against  him  !  The  min- 
ister of  the  church  was  a  drunkard  ;  he  had 
been  under  great  obligations,  both  to  Wesley 
himself  and  to  the  Wesley  family,  but  he 
assailed  him  with  the  most  offensive  brutality  ; 
and  when  Wesley,  denied  the  pulpit,  signified 
his  intention  of  simply  partaking  of  the  Lord's 
Supper,  with  the  parishioners  on  the  following 
Sunday,  the  coarse  man  sent  word,  "  Tell  Mr. 
Wesley  I  shall  not  give  him  the  Sacrament,  for 
he  is  not  fit r  It  seems  to  have  cut  Mr.  Wes- 
ley very  deeply.  **  It  was  fit,"  he  says,  ''  that 
he  who  repelled  me  from  the  table  where  I  had 
myself  so  often  distributed  the  bread  of  life, 
should  be  one  who  owed  his  all  in  this  world  to 
the  tender  love  my  father  had  shown  to  his,  as 
well   as   personally    to    himself."     He    stayed 


The  Revival  Conservath 


>e. 


95 


there,  however,  eight  days,  and  preached  every 
evening  in  the  churchyard,  standing  on  his 
father's  tomb  ;  truly  a  singular  sight,  the  living 
son,  the  prophet  of  his  age,  surely  little  short 


WESLEY   PREACHING    IN   EPWORTH    CHURCHYARD. 


of  inspired,  preaching  from  his  dead  father's 
grave  with  such  pathos  and  power  as  we  may 
well  conceive.  *'  I  am  well  assured,"  he  says, 
*'  I  did  far  more  good  to  my  old  Lincolnshire 


96  TJie  Great  Revival. 

parishioners  by  preaching  three  days  on  my 
father's  tomb  than  I  did  by  preaching  three 
years  in  his  pulpit  !" 

As  he  travelled  to  and  fro,  odd  mistakes 
sometimes  happened.  Arrived  at  York,  he 
went  into  the  church  in  St.  Saviour's  Gate  ;  the 
rector,  one  Mr.  Cordeau,  had  often  warned  his 
congregation  against  going  to  hear  ''that 
vagabond  Wesley"  preach.  It  was  usual  in  that 
day  for  ministers  of  the  Establishment  to  wear 
the  cassock  or  gown,  just  as  everywhere  in 
France  we  see  the  French  abbes.  Wesley 
had  on  his  gown,  like  a  university  man  in 
a  university  town.  Mr.  Cordeau,  not  knowing 
who  he  was,  offered  him  his  pulpit;  Wes- 
ley was  quite  willing,  and  always  ready. 
Sermons  leaped  impromptu  from  his  lips, 
and  this  sermon  was  an  impressive  one;  at 
its  close  the  clerk  asked  the  rector  if  he  knew 
who  the  preacher  was.  ''  No."  *'  Why,  sir,  it 
was  that  vagabond  Wesley  !"  /'Ah,  indeed  !" 
said  the  astonished  clergyman;  "well,  never 
mind,  we  have  had  a  good  sermon."  The 
anecdotes  of  the  incidents  which  waited  upon 
the  preacher  in  his  travels  are  of  every  order  of 
humorous,  affecting,  and  romantic  interest;  they 
are  spread  over  a  large  variety  of  volumes,  and 
even  still  need  to  be  gathered,  framed,  and 
hung  in  the  light  of  some  effective  chronicle. 


TJie  Revival  Conservative. 


97 


The  brilliant  passage  in  which  Lord  Macau- 
lay  portrays,  as  with  the  pencil  of  a  Vandyke, 
the  features  of  the  great  English  Puritans,  is 
worthy  of  attention.  Perhaps,  even  had  the 
great    essayist    attempted    the    task,    he   had 


EPWORTH   CHURCH. 


scarcely  the  requisite  sympathies  to  give  an 
effective  portrait  or  portraits  of  the  early 
Methodists;  indeed,  their  characters  are  differ- 
ent, as  different  as  a  portrait  from  the  pencil  of 
Denner  to  one  from  that  of  Vandyke,  or  of 
Velasquez;  but  as  Denner  is  wonderful  too,  al- 

*  See  Appendix. 


98  The  Great  Revival. 

though  so  homely,  so  the  Methodist  is  a  study. 
The  early  Methodist  was,  perhaps,  usually  a 
very  simple,  what  we  should  call  an  ignorant, 
man,  but  he  had  "the  true  Light  which  lighteth 
every  man  that  cometh  into  the  world."  He 
was  not  such  an  one  as  the  early  Puritan  or  the 
ancient  Huguenot,  those  children  of  the  camp 
and  of  the  sword.  Nonconformist  Templars  and 
Crusaders,  whose  theology  had  trained  them 
for  the  battle-field,  teaching  them  to  frown  de- 
fiance on  kings,  and  to  treat  with  contempt  the 
proudest  nobles,  if  they  were  merely  unsancti- 
fied  men.  The  Methodist  was  not  such  an  one 
as  the  stern  Ironside  of  Cromwell  ;  as  he  lived 
in  a  more  cheerful  age,  so  he  was  the  subject  of 
a  more  cheerful  piety;  he  was  as  loyal  as  he  wa's 
lowly.  He  had  been  forgotten  or  neglected  by 
all  the  priests  and  Levites  of  the  land;  but  a 
voice  had  reached  him,  and  raised  him  to  the 
rank  of  a  living,  conscious,  immortal  soul.  He 
also  was  one  for  whom  Christ  died.  A  new  life 
had  created  new  interests  in  him  ;  and  Christi- 
anity, really  believed,  does  ennoble  a  man — 
how  can  it  do  otherwise  .■*  It  gives  self-respect 
to  a  man,  it  shows  to  him  a  new  purpose  and 
business  in  life;  moreover,  it  creates  a  spirit  of 
holy  cheerfulness  and  joy;  and  thus  came  about 
that  state  of  mind  which  Wesley  made  subser- 
vient to  organisation — the  necessity  for  meet- 

*  See  Appendix. 


The  Revival  Conservative.  99 

ings  and  reciprocations.  It  has  been  said  that 
every  church  must  have  some  sign  or  counter- 
sign, some  symbol  to  make  it  popularly  success- 
ful. St.  Dominic  gave  to  his  order  the  Rosary; 
John  Wesley  gave  to  his  Society  the  Ticket. 
There  were  no  chapels,  or  but  few,  and  none  to 
open  their  doors  to  these  strange  new  pilgrims 
to  the  celestial  city.  We  have  seen  that  the 
churches  were  closed  against  them.  Lord 
Macaulay  says,  had  John  Wesley  risen  in  the 
Church  of  Rome,  she  would  have  thrown  her 
arms  round  him,  only  regarding  him  as  the 
founder  of  a  new  order,  with  certain  peculiar- 
ities calculated  to  increase  and  to  extend  her 
empire,  and  in  due  time  have  given  to  him  the 
honours  of  canonisation. 

The  English  clergy  as  a  body  gathered  up 
their  garments  and  shrunk  from  all  contact 
with  the  Methodists  as  from  a  pestilence.  What 
could  be  done  }  Something  must  be  done  to 
prevent  them  from  falHng  back  into  the  world. 
Piety  needs  habit,  and  must  become  habitual  to 
be  safe,  even  as  the  fine-twined  linen  of  the 
veil,  and  the  ark  of  the  covenant,  and  the 
cherubim  shadowing  the  mercy-seat,  were  shut 
in  and  all  their  glory  defended  by  the  rude  cov- 
erings of  badger-skins.  John  Wesley  knew  that 
the  safety  of  the  converted  would  be  in  fre- 
quent meetings  for  singing  and  prayer  and  con- 


100  The  Great  Revival. 

versation.  Reciprocation  is  the  soul  of  Meth- 
odism; so  they  assembled  in  each  others' 
houses,  in  rude  and  lonely  but  convenient 
rooms,  by  farm-house  ingles,  in  lone  hamlets. 
Thus  was  created  a  homely  piety,  often  rugged 
enough,  no  doubt,  but  full  of  beautiful  and 
pathetic  instincts.  So  grew  what  came  to  be 
called  band-meetings,  class-meetings,  love- 
feasts,  and  all  the  innumerable  means  by  which 
the  Methodist  Society  worked,  until  it  became 
like  a  wheel  within  a  wheel ;  simple  enough, 
however,  in  the  days  to  which  we  are  referring. 
"Look  to  the  Lord,  and  faithfully  attend  all 
the  means  of  grace  appointed  in  the  Society." 
Such  was,  practically,  the  whole  of  Methodism. 
So  that  famous  old  lady,  whose  bright  example 
has  so  often  been  held  up  on  Methodist  plat- 
forms, when  called  upon  to  state  the  items  of 
her  creed,  did  so  very  sufficiently  when  she 
summed  it  up  in  the  four  particulars  of  "  repent- 
ance towards  God;  faith  in  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ  ;  a  penny  a  week  ;  and  a  shilling  a 
quarter."  Wesley  seems  to  have  summed  the 
Methodist  creed  more  simply  still  :  "  Belief  in 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  an  earnest  desire  to 
flee  from  the  wrath  to  come."  This  was  his 
condition  of  Church  fellowship.  When  the 
faith  became  more  consciously  objective,  it  too 
was  seized  by  the  passionate  instinct,  the  de- 


The  Revival  Conservative.  loi 

sire  to  save  souls.     This  drove  the  early  Meth- 
odists out  on  great  occasions  to  call  vast  mul- 
titudes together  on  heaths,  on  moors.   Perhaps 
— but  this  was  at  a  later  time — some  country- 
gentleman  threw    open    his    old    hall   to  the 
preachers;  though  the  more  aristocratic  phase 
of  the  Methodist  movement  fell  into  the  Cal- 
vinistic  rather  than  into  the  Wesleyan  ranks, 
and   subsided    into    the    organisation    of   the 
Countess  of  Huntingdon,  which  was,  in  fact,  a 
kind  of  Free  Church  of  England.     The  follow- 
ers  of  Wesley    sought    the    sequestration    of 
nature,  or  in  cities  and  towns  they  took  to  the 
streets  or  the  broad  ways  and  outlying  fields. 
In  some  neighbourhoods  a  little  room  was  built, 
containing  the  germ  of  what  in  a  few  years  be- 
came a  large  Wesleyan  Society.     The  burden 
of  all  these  meetings,  and  all  their  intercourse, 
whether  in  speech  or  song,  was  the  sweetness 
and  fulness  of  Jesus.     They  had  intense  faith  in 
the  love  of  God  shed  abroad  in  the  heart ;  and 
their  great  interest  was  in  souls  on  the  brink  of 
perdition.     They  knew  little  of  spiritual  diffi- 
culties or  speculative  despair;  their  conflict  was 
with  the  world,  the  flesh,  and  the  devil;  and  in 
this  person,  whose  features  have  lately  become 
somewhat  dim,  and  who  has  wrapped  himself 
in  a  new  cloak  of  darkness,  they  did  really  be- 
lieve.    Wesley  dealt  with  sin  as  sin,  and  with 


102  The  Great  Revival. 

souls  as  souls;  he  and  his  band  of  preachers  had 
little  regard  to  proprieties,  and  it  was  not  a 
polished  time;  so,  ungraceful  and  undignified, 
the  face  weary,  and  the  hand  heavy  with  toil, 
they  seemed  out  of  breath  pursuing  souls.  The 
strength  of  all  these  men  was  that  they  had  a 
definite  creed,  and  they  sought  to  guard  It  by  a 
definite  Church  life.  The  early  Methodist  had 
also  cultivated  the  mighty  instinct  of  prayer, 
about  which  he  had  no  philosophy,  but  believ- 
ing that  God  heard  him,  he  quite  simply  in- 
dulged in  it  as  a  passion,  and  in  this  to  him 
there  was  at  once  a  meaning  and  a  joy.  We 
are  not  under  the  necessity  of  vindicating 
every  phase  of  the  great  movement,  we  are 
simply  writing  down  some  particulars  of  its 
history,  and  how  it  was  that  it  grew  and  pre- 
vailed. God's  ministry  goes  on  by  various 
means,  ordinary  and  extraordinary;  that  is  the 
difference  between  rivers  and  rains,  between 
dews  and  lightnings. 

A  very  interesting  chapter,  perhaps  a  volume, 
might  be  compiled  from  the  old  records  of  the 
mere  anecdotes — the  very  humours — of  the  per- 
secution attending  on  the  Revival.  Thus,  in 
Cornwall,  Edward  Greenfield,  a  tanner,  with  a 
wife  and  seven  children,  was  arrested  under  a 
warrant  granted  by  Dr.  Borlase,  the  eminent 
antiquary,  who  was,  however,  a  bitter  foe  to 


The  Revival  Conservative.  103 

Methodism.  It  was  inquired  what  was  the 
objection  to  Greenfield,  a  peaceable,  inoffensive 
man  ;  and  the  answer  was,  *'  The  man  is  well 
enough,  but  the  gentlemen  round  about  can't 
.bear  his  impudence;  why,  he  says  he  knows 
his  sins  are  forgiven  !"  The  story  is  well 
known  how,  in  one  place,  a  whole  waggon-load 
of  Methodists  were  taken  before  the  magis- 
trates; but  when  the  question  was  asked  in 
court  what  they  had  done,  a  profound  silence 
fell  over  the  assembly,  for  no  one  was  prepared 
with  a  charge  against  them,  till  some- 
body exclaimed,  ''  They  pretended  to  be 
better  than  other  people,  and  prayed  from 
morning  till  night  !"  And  another  voice 
shouted  out,  ''And  they've  co7tvarted  my  wife  ; 
till  she  went  among  they,  she  had  a  tongue  of 
her  own,  and  now  she's  as  quiet  as  a  lamb  !" 
''Take  them  all  back,  take  them  all  back,"  said 
the  sensible  magistrate,  "and  let  them  convert 
all  the  scolds  in  the  town  !" 

There  is  a  spot  in  Cornwall  which  may  be 
said  to  be  consecrated  and  set  apart  to  the 
memory  of  Wesley  ;  it  is  in  the  immediate 
neighbourhood  of  Redruth,  a  wild,  bare,  rugged- 
looking  region  now,  very  suggestive  of  its 
savage  aspect  upwards  of  a  hundred  years 
since.  The  spot  to  which  we  refer  is  the 
Gwennap  Pit;  it  is  a  wild  amphitheatre,  cut  out 


104  ^^^^'  G^^^^  Revival. 

among  the  hills,  capable  of  holding  about  thirty- 
thousand  persons.  Its  natural  walls  slant  up- 
wards, and  the  place  has  altogether  wonderful 
properties  for  the  carrying  the  human  voice. 
Wesley  began  to  preach  in  this  spot  in  1762. 
When  he  first  visited  Cornwall,  the  savage 
mobs  of  what  used  to  be  called  ''West  Barb- 
ary,"  howled  and  roared  upon  him  like  lions  or 
wild  beasts  ;  in  his  later  years  of  visitation,  no 
emperor  or  sovereign  prince  could  have  been 
received  with  more  reverence  and  affection.  The 
streets  were  lined  and  the  windows  of  the 
houses  thronged  with  gazing  crowds,  to  see 
him  as  he  walked  along;  and  no  wonder,  for 
Cornwall  was  one  of  the  chief  territories  of  that 
singular  ecclesiastical  kingdom  of  which  he 
was  the  founder.  When  he  first  went  into 
Cornwall,  it  was  really  a  region  of  savage 
irreligion  and  heathenism.  The  reader  of  his 
life  often  finds,  usually  about  once  a  year,  the 
visit  to  Gwennap  Pit  recorded  :  he  preached  his 
first  sermon 'there,  as  we  have  said,  in  1762;  at 
the  age  of  eighty-six  he  preached  his  last  in  i 
1789.  There,  from  time  to  time,  they  poured 
in  from  all  the  country  round  to  see  and  to 
listen  to  the  words  of  this  truly  reverend 
father. 

The  traditions  of  Methodism  have  few  more 
imposing  scenes.     Gwennap  Pit  was,  perhaps, 


s 


The  Revival  Conservative.  107 

Wesley's  most  famous  cathedral;  a  magnificent 
church,  if  we  may  apply  that  term  to  a  build- 
ing of  nature,  among  the  wild  moors;  it  was 
thronged  by  hushed  and  devout  worshippers. 
Until  Wesley  went  among  these  people,  the 
whole  immense  population  might  have  said,  ''No 
man  cared  for  our  souls;"  now  they  poured  in  to 
see  him  there:  wild  miners  from  the  immediate 
neighbourhood,  fishermen  from  the  coast,  men 
who  until  their  conversion  had  pursued  the 
wrecker's  remorseless  and  criminal  career, 
smugglers,  more  quiet  men  and  their  families 
less  savage,  but  not  less  ignorant,  from  their 
shieling,  or  lowly  farmstead  on  the  distant 
heath.  A  strange  throng,  if  we  think  of  it, 
men  who  had  never  used  God's  name  except  in 
an  oath,  and  who  had  never  breathed  a  prayer 
except  for  the  special  providence  of  a  shipwreck, 
and  who  with  wicked  barbarity  had  kindled 
their  delusive  lights  along  the  coasts,  to  fasci- 
nate unfortunate  ships  to  the  cruel  cliffs  !  But 
a  Divine  power  had  passed  over  them,  and  they 
were  changed,  with  their  families;  and  hither 
they  came  to  gladden  the  heart  of  the  old 
patriarch  in  the  wild  glen — a  strange  spot,  and 
not  unbeautiful,  roofed  over  by  the  blue  heav- 
ens. Amidst  the  broom,  the  twittering  birds, 
the  heath  flower,  and  the  scantling  of  trees, 
amidst  the  venerable  rocks,  it  must  have  been 


io8  The  Great  Revival, 

wonderful  to  hear  the  thirty  thousand  voices 
welling  up,  and  singing  Wesley's  words  : 

**  Suffice  that  for  the  season  past, 
Hell's  horrid  language  filled  our  tongues  ; 
We  all  Thy  words  behind  us  cast, 
And  loudly  sang  the  drunkard's  songs. 
But,  oh,  the  power  of  grace  Divine  ! 
In  hymns  we  now  our  voices  raise. 
Loudly  in  strange  hosannahs  join, 
While  blasphemies  are  turned  to  praise  !" 

Such  was  one  of  the  triumphs  of  the  Great 
Revival. 


The  Singers  of  the  Revival.  109 


CHAPTER   VI. 

THE  SINGERS  OF  THE  REVIVAL. 

Chief  of  all  the  auxiliary  circumstances 
which  aided  the  Great  Revival,  beyond  a  ques- 
tion, was  this:  that  it  taught  the  people  of 
England,  for  the  first  time,  the  real  power  of 
sacred  song.  That  man  in  the  north  of  Eng- 
land who,  when  taken,  by  a  companion  who 
had  been  converted,  to  a  great  Methodist 
preaching,  and  being  asked  at  the  close  of  the 
service  how  he  had  enjoyed  it,  replied,  '^  Weel, 
I  didna  care  sae  mich  aboot  the  preaching,  but, 
eh,  man  !  yon  ballants  were  grand,"  was  no 
doubt  a  representative  character.  And  the 
great  and  subduing  power  of  large  bodies  of 
people,  moved  as  with  one  heart  and  one  voice, 
must  have  greatly  aided  to  produce  those 
effects  which  we  are  attempting  to  realise. 
All  great  national  movements  have  acknowl- 
edged and  used  the  power  of  song.  For  man 
is  a  born  singer,  and  if  he  cannot  sing  himself 
he  likes  to  feel  the  power  of  those  who  can.  It 
has  been  so  in  political  movements:  there  were 
the  songs  of  the  Roundheads  and  the  Cavaliers. 


no  The  Great  Revival, 

And  the  greatest  religious  movements  through 
all  the  Christian  ages  have  acknowledged  the 
power  of  sacred  song,  even  from  the  days  of 
the  apostles,  and  from  the  time  of  St.  Ambrose 
in  Milan.  Luther  soon  found  that  he  must 
teach  the  people  to  sing.  That  is  a  pleasant 
little  story,  how  once,  as  he  was  sitting  at  his 
window,  he  heard  a  blind  beggar  sing.  It  was 
something  about  the  grace  of  God,  and  Luther 
says  the  strain  brought  tears  into  his  eyes. 
Then,  he  says,  the  thought  suddenly  flashed 
into  his  mind,  *'  If  I  could  only  make  gospel 
songs  which  people  could  sing,  and  which 
would  spread  themselves  up  and  down  the 
cities  !"  He  directly  set  to  work  upon  this 
inspiration,  and  let  fly  song  after  song,  each 
like  a  lark  mounting  towards  heaven's  gate,  full 
of  New  Testament  music.  *'  He  took  care," 
says  one  writer,  in  mentioning  the  incident, 
"  that  each  song  should  have  some  remember- 
able  word  or  refrain  ;  such  as  *  Jesus,'  '  Believe 
and  be  saved,'  *  Come  unto  Me,'  *  Gospel/ 
*  Grace,'  '  Worthy  is  the  Lamb,'  and  so  on." 

Until  Watts  and  Doddridge  appeared,  Eng- 
land had  no  popular  sacred  melodies.  Amongst 
the  works  of  the  poets,  such  as  Sir  Philip  Sid- 
ney, Milton,  Sandys,  George  Herbert,  and 
others,  a  few  were  scattered  up  and  down;  but 
they  mostly  lacked  the  subtle  element  which 


The  Singers  of  the  Revival,  ill 

constitutes  a  hymn.  For,  just  as  a  man  may  be 
a  great  poet,  and  utterly  fail  in  the  power 
to  write  a  good  song,  so  a  man  may  be  a 
great  sacred  poet,  and  yet  miss  the  faculty 
which  makes  the  hymn-writer.  It  is  singu- 
lar, it  is  almost  indefinable.  The  subtle 
something  which  catches  the  essential  elements 
of  a  great  human  experience,  and  gives  it 
lyrical  expression,  takes  that  which  other  men 
put  into  creeds,  sermons,  theological  essays, 
and  sets  it  flying,*  as  we  just  now  said,  like 
"the  lark  to  heaven's  gate."  It  ought  never  to 
be  forgotten  that  Watts  was,  in  fact,  the 
creator  of  the  English  hymn.  He  wrote  many 
lines  which  good  taste  can  in  no  case  approve; 
but  here  again  the  old  proverb  holds  true, 
"  The  house  that  is  building  does  not  look  like 
the  house  that  is  built."  And  the  great  num- 
ber of  following  writers,  while  they  have  felt 
the  inspiration  he  gave  to  the  Church,  have 
moulded  their  lines  by  a  more  fastidious  taste, 
which,  if  it  has  sometimes  improved  the  metre 
or  the  sentiment,  has  possibly  diminished  in 
the  strength.  We  will  venture  to  say  that  even 
now  there  is  a  greater  average  of  majesty  of 
thought  and  expression  in  Watts's  hymns  than 
in  any  other  of  our  great  hymn-writers  ; 
although,  in  soipie  cases,  we  find  here  and  there 
a  piece  which  may  equal,  and  some  one  or  two 


112  The  Great  Revival. 

which  are  said  to  surpass,  the  flights  of  the 
sweet  singer  of  Stoke  Newington.  But  the 
hymns  of  Watts,  as  a  whole,  were  not  so  well 
fitted  to  a  great  and  popular  revival,  to  the 
expression  of  a  tumultuous  and  passionate  ex- 
perience, as  some  we  shall  notice.  They  were, 
as  a  whole,  especially  wanting  in  the  social 
element,  and  the  finest  of  them  sound  like 
notes  from  the  harp  of  some  solitary  angel. 
One  cannot  give  to  them  the  designation  which 
the  Wesleys  gave  to  large  sections  of  their 
hymns,  "suitable  for  experience  meetings." 
Praise  rather  than  experience  is  the  character- 
istic of  Watts,  although  there  are  noble 
exceptions.  Our  readers  will  perhaps  remem- 
ber a  well-known  and  pleasing  instance  in  a 
letter  from  Doddridge  to  his  aged  friend. 
Doddridge  had  been  preaching  on  a  summer 
evening  in  some  plain  old  village  chapel  in 
Northamptonshire,  when  at  the  close  of  the 
service  was  "given  out,"  as  we  say,  that  hymn 
commencing: 

*'  Give  me  the  wings  of  faith  to  rise." 

We  can  suppose  the  melody  to  which  it  was 
sung  to  have  been  very  rude;  but  it  was,  per- 
haps, new  to  the  people,  and  the  preacher  was 
affected  as  he  saw  how,  over  the  congregation, 
the  people  were  singing  earnestly,  and  melted 


The  Singers  of  the  Revival.  1 1 3 

to  tears  while  they  sang  ;  and  at  the  close  of 
the  service  many  old  people  gathered  round 
Doddridge,  their  hearts  all  alive  with  the  hymn, 
and  they  wished  it  were  possible,  only  for  once, 
to  look  upon  the  face  of  the  dear  old  Dr.  Watts. 
Doddridge  was  so  pleased  that  he  thought  his 
old  friend  would  be  pleased  also,  and  so  he 
wrote  the  account  of  the  little  incident  in  a 
letter  to  him.  In  many  other  parts  of  the 
country,  no  doubt,  the  people  were  waiting  and 
wishful  for  popular  sacred  harmonies.  And 
when  the  Great  Revival  came,  and  congrega- 
tions met  by  thousands,  and  multitudes  who 
had  been  accustomed  to  song,  thoughtless, 
foolish,  very  often  sinful  and  licentious,  still 
needed  to  sing  (for  song  and  human  nature  are 
inseparable,  apparently,  so  far  as  we  know  any- 
thing about  it,  in  the  next  world  as  well  as  in 
this),  it  was  necessary  that,  as  they  had  been 
"brought  up  out  of  the  horrible  pit  and  miry 
clay,"  *'  a  new  song  of  praise"  should  be  put  in 
the  mouth.  John  Wesley  had  heard  much  of 
Moravian  singing.  He  took  Count  Zinzendorfs 
hymns,  translated  them,  and  immensely  im- 
proved them;  he  was  the  first  who  introduced 
into  our  psalmody  the  noble  words  of  Paul 
Gerhardt.  Some  of  the  finest  of  all  the  hymns 
in  the  Wesleyan  collection  are  these  transla- 
tions.    Watts  was  unsparingly  used.     Wesley's 


114  '^^^  Great  Revival. 

first  effort  to  meet  this  necessity  of  the  Revival 
was  the  publication  of  his  collection  in  1739.* 
And  thus,  most  likely  without  knowing  the 
anecdote  of  Luther  we  have  quoted  above, 
,Wesley  and  his  coadjutors  did  exactly  what 
the  Reformer  had  done.  They  gave  effect  to  the 
Revival  by  the  ordinance  of  song,  and  preached 
the  Gospel  in  sweet  words,  and  often  recurring 
Gospel  refrains. 

The  remark  is  true  that  there  was  no  art,  no 
splendid  form  of  worship  or  ritual;  early  Meth- 
odism and  the  entire  evangelic  movement  were 
as  free  from  all  this  as  Clairvaux  in  the  Valley  of 
Wormwood,  when  Bernard  ministered  there 
with  all  his  monks  around  him,  or  as  Cluny 
when  Bernard  de  Morlaix  chanted  his  ''Jeru- 
salem the  Golden."  Like  all  great  religious 
movements  which  have  shaken  men's  souls,  this 
was  purely  spiritual,  or  if  it  had  a  secular  ex- 
pression it  was  not  artificial.  Loud  amens  re- 
sounded as  the  preacher  spoke  or  prayed,  and 
then  the  hearty  gushes  of,  perhaps,  not  melo- 
dious song  united  all  hearts  in  some  litany  or 
Te  Deum  in  new-born  verse  from  some  of  the 
singers  of  the  last  revival.  Amongst  infuriated 
mobs,  we  read  how  Wesley  found  a  retreat  in 
song,  and  overpowered  the  multitude  with  what 
we,  perhaps,  should  not  regard  melody.  Thus, 
when  at  Bengeworth  in   1740,  where  Wesley 

*  See  Appendix. 


The  Singers  of  the  Revival.  115 

was  set  upon  by  a  crowd,  and  it  was  proposed 
by  one  that  they  should  take  him  away  and 
duck  him,  he  broke  out  into  singing  with  his 
redoubted  friend,  Thomas  Maxfield.  He  al- 
lowed them  to  carry  him  whither  they  would  ; 
at  the  bridge  end  of  the  street  the  mob  retreat- 
ed and  left  him  ;  but  he  took  his  stand  on  the 
bridge,  and  striking  up — 

**  Angel  of  God,  whate'er  betide, 
Thy  summons  I  obey," 

preached  a  useful  and  effective  sermon  to  hun- 
dreds who  remained  to  listen,  from  the  text, 
*'  If  God  be  for  us,  who  can  be  against  us  ?" 

But  the  contributions  of  Watts  and  Wesley 
are  so  well  known  that  it  is  more  important  to 
notice  here  that  as  the  Revival  moved  on,  very 
soon  other  remarkable  lyrists  appeared  to  con- 
tribute, if  few,  yet  really  effective  words.  Of 
these  none  is  more  remarkable  than  the  mighty 
cobbler,  Thomas  Olivers,  a  *'  sturdy  Welsh- 
man," as  Southey  calls  him.  He  is  not  to  be 
confounded  with  John  Oliver,  also  one  of  the 
notabilities  of  the  Revival.  Thomas  was  really 
an  astonishing  trophy  of  the  movement ;  before 
his  conversion  he  was  a  thoroughly  bad  fellow, 
a  kind  of  wandering  reprobate,  an  idle,  dissi- 
pated man.  He  fell  beneath  the  power  of 
Whitefield,  whom  he  heard  preach  from    the 


Ii6  The  Great  Revival. 

text,  "  Is  not  this  a  brand  plucked  out  of  the 
fire  ?"  He  had  made  comic  songs  about  White- 
field,  and  sung  them  with  applause  in  tap- 
rooms. As  Whitefield  came  in  his  way,  he  went 
with  the  purpose  of  obtaining  fresh  fuel  for  his 
ridicule.  The  heart  of  the  man  was  completely- 
broken,  and  he  felt  so  much  compunction  for 
what  he  had  done  against  the  man  for  whom 
he  now  felt  so  deep  a  reverence  and  awe,  that 
he  used  to  follow  him  in  the  streets,  and  though 
he  did  not  speak  to  him,  he  says  he  could 
scarcely  refrain  from  kissing  the  prints  of  his 
footsteps.  And  now,  he  says,  at  the  begin- 
ning of  his  new  life,  what  we  can  well  believe 
of  an  imagination  so  intense  and  strong,  **Isaw 
God  in  everything  :  the  heavens,  the  earth  and 
all  therein  showed  me  something  of  Him  ;  yea, 
even  from  a  drop  of  water,  a  blade  of  grass,  or 
a  grain  of  sand,  I  received  instruction."  He  was 
about  seriously  to  enter  into  a  settled  and  re- 
spectable way  of  business  when  John  Wesley 
heard  of  him  ;  and  although  he  was  converted 
under  Whitefield,  Wesley  persuaded  him  to 
yield  himself  to  his  direction  for  the  work  of 
preaching  as  one  of  his  itinerant  band,  and  sent 
him  into  Cornwall — ^just  the  man  we  should 
think  for  Cornwall,  fiery  and  imaginative  :  off 
he  went,  in  1753.  He  was  born  in  1725.  He 
testifies  that  he  was  "  unable  to  buy  a  horse, 


The  Singers  of  the  Revival.  117 

so,  with  my  boots  on  my  legs,  my  great-coat 
on  my  back,  a.nd  my  bag  with  my  books  and 
linen  across  my  shoulders,  I  set  out  for  Corn- 
wall on  foot."  Henceforth  there  were  forty-six 
years  on  earth  before  him,  during  which  he  wit- 
nessed a  magnificent  confession  before  many 
witnesses.  He  became  one  of  the  foremost 
controversialists  when  dissensions  arose  among 
the  men  of  the  Revival.  He  acquired  a  knowl- 
edge of  the  languages,  especially  of  Hebrew, 
and  was  a  great  reader.  Wesley  appointed 
him  as  his  editor  and  general  proofreader;  but 
he  could  never  be  taught  to  punctuate  prop- 
erly, and  the  punctilious  Wesley  could  not  tol- 
erate his  inaccuracies  as  they  slipped  through  the 
proof,  so  he  did  not  retain  this  post  long.  But 
Wesley  loved  him,  and  in  1799  he  descended 
into  Wesley's  own  tomb,  and  his  remains  lie 
there,  in  the  cemetery  of  the  City  Road  Chapel. 
He  wrote  more  prose  than  poetry  ;  but,  like 
St.  Ambrose,  he  is  made  immortal  by  a  single 
hymn.  He  is  the  author  of  one  of  the  most 
majestic  hymns  in  all  hymnology.  Byron  and 
Scott  wrote  Hebrew  melodies,  but  they  will 
not  bear  comparison  with  this  one.  While  in 
London  upon  one  occasion,  he  went  into  the 
Jewish  synagogue,  and  he  heard  sung  there  by 
a  rabbi,  Dr.  Leoni,  an  old  air,  a  melody  which 
so  enchanted  him  and  fixed  itself  in  his  memo- 


ii8  The  Great  Revival, 

ry,  that  he  went  home,  and  instantly  produced 
what  he  called  "a  hymn  to  the  God  of  Abra- 
ham," arranged  to  the  air  he  had  heard.  And 
thus  we  possess  that  which  we  so  frequently 
-,  sing, 

*'  The  God  of  Abraham  praise  !"  * 

^  It  is  principally  known  by  its  first  four  verses  ; 
there  are  twelve.  *'  There  is  not,"  says  James 
Montgomery,  *'  in  our  language  a  lyric  of  more 
majestic  style,  more  elevated  thought,  or  more 
glorious  imagery  ;  *  *  like  a  stately  pile  of 
architecture,  severe  and  simple  in  design  ;  it 
strikes  less  on  the  first  view  than  after  deliber- 
ate examination,  *  *  the  mind  itself  grows 
greater  in  contemplating  it  ;"  and  he  continues, 
*'  On  account  of  the  peculiarity  of  the  measure, 
none  but  a  person  of  equal  musical  and  poetical 
taste  could  have  produced  the  harmony  per- 
ceptible in  the  verse."  There  will,  perhaps, 
always  be  a  doubt  whether  Olivers  was  the 
author  of  the  hymn, 

*'Lo  !  He  comes  with  clouds  descending." 

If  Charles  Wesley  were  the  author,  he  undoubt- 
edly derived  the  inspiration  of  the  piece  from 
Olivers'  hymn,**  The  Last  Judgment :"  t  it  is  in 
the  same  metre,  and  probably  Wesley  took  the 
thought  and  the  metre,  and  adapted  it  to  popu- 
lar service.     What  is  undoubted  is  that  Olivers, 

*  See  Appendix.  f  See  Appendix. 


The  Singers  of  the  Revival.  1 19 

who  is  the  author  of  the  metre,  is  also  the  author 
of  the  fine  old  tune  ''  Helmsley,"  to  which 
the  hymn  was  usually  sung  until  quite  recent 
times;  the  tune  was  originally  called  *'  Olivers." 
It  is  but  a  natural  step  from  Thomas  Olivers 
to  his  great  antagonist,  Augustus  Toplady ;  he 
also  is  made  immortal  by  a  hymn.  He  wrote 
many  fine  ones,  full  of  melody,  pathos,  and 
affecting  imagery.  Toplady,  as  all  our  readers 
know,  was  a  clergyman,  the  Vicar  of  Broad 
Hembury,  in  Devonshire.  He  took  the  strong 
Calvinistic  side  in  the  controversies  which 
arose  in  the  course  of  the  Great  Revival; 
Olivers  took  the  strong  Arminian  side.  They 
were  not  very  civil  to  each  other;  and  the 
scholarly  clergyman  no  doubt  felt  his  dignity 
somewhat  hurt  by  the  rugged  contact  with  the 
cobbler;  but  the  quarrels  are  forgotten  now, 
and  there  is  scarcely  a  hymn-book  in  which  the 
hymn  of  Olivers  is  not  found  within  a  few  pages 
of 

*'  Rock  of  Ages,  cleft  for  me  !" 

To  this  hymn  has  been  given  almost  univer- 
sally the  palm  as  the  finest  hymn  in  our 
language.  Where  there  are  so  many,  at  once 
deeply  expressive  in  experience,  and  subdued 
and  elevated  in  feeling,  we  perhaps  may  be  for- 
given if  we  hesitate  before  praise  so  eminently 
high.      Mr.  Gladstone's   translation    into    the 


120  The  Great  Revival. 

Latin,  In  the  estimation  of  eminent  scholars, 
even  carries  a  more  thrilling  and  penetrative 
awe.*  But  Toplady  wrote  many  other  hymns 
quite  equal  in  pathos  and  poetic  merit.  The 
characteristic  of  ''  Rock  of  Ages"  is  its  depth  of 
penitential  devotion.  A  volume  might  be  writ- 
ten on  the  history  of  this  expressive  hymn.  In- 
numerable are  the  multitudes  whom  these  words 
have  sustained  when  dying  ;  they  were  among 
the  last  which  lingered  on  the  lips  of  Prince 
Albert  as  he  was  passing  away;  and  to  how 
many,  through  every  variety  of  social  distinc- 
tion, have  they  been  at  once  the  creed  and  con- 
solation! It  is  by  his  hymns  that  Toplady  will 
be  chiefly  remembered.  For  years  he  was  hov- 
ering along  on  the  borders  of  the  grave,  slowly 
dying  of  consumption  ;  and  he  died  in  1778,  in 
the  thirty-eighth  year  of  his  age.  It  was  his 
especial  wish  that  he  should  be  buried  with 
more  than  quiet,  that  no  announcement  should 
be  made  of  the  funeral,  and  that  there  should 
be  no  especial  service  at  his  grave  :  it  testifies, 
however,  to  the  high  regard  in  which  he  was  I 
held  that  thousands  followed  him  to  his  burial 
in  Tottenham  Court  Road  Chapel ;  and  when 
we  know  that  his  dear  friend  Rowland  Hill 
conducted  the  service,  we  can  scarcely  be  sur- 
prised, or  offended,  that  he  broke  through  the 
injunctions  of  his  friend,  and  addressed  the  mul- 
*  See  Appendix. 


The  Singers  of  the  Revival. 


121 


titude   in   affectionate  commemoration   of  the 
sweet  singer. 

Toplady  we  should  regard  as  the  chief  singer 


AUGUSTUS   TOPLADY. 


of  the  Revival,  after  Charles  Wesley,  although 
entirely  of  another  order;  not  so  social  as  medi- 
tative, and  reminding  us,  in  many  of  his  pieces, 


122  The  Great  Revival. 

of  the  characteristics  we  have  attributed  to 
Watts.  His  midnight  hymn  is  a  piece  of  un- 
common sublimity  ;  portions  of  it  seem  almost 
unfit  for  congregational  singing;  but  for  inward 
plaintive  meditation,  for  reading  in  the  evening 
family  prayer,  when  the  hushed  stillness  of  night 
is  over  the  household,  and  the  pilgrim  of  life 
is  about  to  commit  himself  to  the  unconscious- 
ness of  sleep,  the  verses  seem  tenderly  sug- 
gestive : 

"  Thy  ministering  spirits  descend, 

And  watch  while  Thy  saints  are  asleep; 
By  day  and  by  night  they  attend, 

The  heirs  of  salvation  to  keep. 
Bright  seraphs  despatched  from  the  throne, 

Fly  swift  to  their  stations  assigned; 
And  angels  elect  are  sent  down 

To  guard  the  elect  of  mankind. 

"Their  worship  no  interval  knows; 

Their  fervour  is  still  on  the  wing; 
And,  while  they  protect  my  repose. 

They  chant  to  the  praise  of  my  King. 
I,  too,  at  the  season  ordained, 

Their  chorus  forever  shall  join. 
And  love  and  adore  without  end. 

Their  gracious  Creator  and  mine." 

We  have  noticed  in  a  previous  chapter  that 
when  Whitefield  separated  himself  from  Wes- 
ley, the  Revival  took  two  distinctly  different 
routes.  We  only  refer  to  this  again  for  the 
purpose  of  remarking  that  as  Toplady  was  in- 


The  Singers  of  the  Revival .  123 

tensely  Calvinistic  in  his  method  of  Divine 
grace,  so  his  hymns,  also,  reflect  in  all  its  ful- 
ness that  creed;  yet  they  are  full  of  tenderness, 
and  well  calculated  frequently  to  arouse  dor- 
mant devotion.  ''  Your  harps,  ye  trembling 
saints;"  "Emptied  of  earth  I  fain  would  be;" 
"When  languor  and  disease  invade;"  ''Jesus, 
immutably  the  same;"  "A  debtor  to  mercy 
alone,"  and  many  another,  leave  nothing  to  be 
desired  either  on  the  score  of  devotion,  poetry, 
or  melody. 

In  a  far  humbler  sphere,  but  representing  the 
same  faith  and  fervour  as  Toplady,  and  also 
carried  away  young,  was  Cennick.  In  an  article 
in  the  Christian  Remembraitcer^  on  English 
hymnology,  written  very  much  for  the  purpose 
of  throwing  contempt  on  all  the  hymn-writers 
of  the  Revival,  Cennick  is  spoken  of  as  "a  low 
and  violent  person;  his  hymns  peculiarly  offens- 
ive, both  as  to  matter  and  manner."  Some  ex- 
ceptions are  made  by  the  reviewer  for  "  Chil- 
dren of  the  Heavenly  King."  We  may  presume, 
therefore,  that  to  this  writer,  "  Thou  dear  Re- 
deemer, dying  Lamb,"  is  one  of  the  "  peculiarly 
offensive."  This  is  not  wonderful,  when  in  the 
next  page  we  read  that  "the  hymns  of  Newton 
are  the  very  essence  of  doggerel."  This  sounds 
rather  strange,  as  a  verdict,  to  those  who  have 
felt   the  particular  charm  of  that  much-loved 


124  1^^^  Great  Revival. 

hymn,  "How  sweet  the  name  of  Jesus  sounds!" 
It  is  not  without  a  purpose  that  we  refer  to 
this  paper  in  the  Christian  Remembrancer — 
evidently  by  a  very  scholarly  hand — because  its 
whole  tone  shows  how  the  sacred  song  of  the 
Revival  would  be  likely  to  be  regarded  by 
those  who  had  no  sympathy  with  its  evangeli- 
cal teaching.  The  writer,  for  instance,  speak- 
ing of  Wesley's  hymns,  doubts  whether  any  of 
them  could  possibly  be  included  by  any  chance 
in  English  hymnology !  "Jesus,  lover  of  my 
soul,"  is  said,  "in  some  small  degree  to  ap- 
proximate to  the  model  of  a  Church  hymn  !" 
Of  the  Countess  of  Huntingdon's  hymn-book, 
the  writer  says,  "  We  shall  certainly  not  notice 
the  raving  profanity  !"  It  is  not  necessary  fur- 
ther either  to  sadden  or  to  irritate  the  reader 
by  similar  expressions;  but  the  entire  paper, 
and  the  criticisms  we  have  cited,  will  show 
what  was  likely  to  be  the  effect  of  the  hymns 
of  the  Revival  on  many  similar  minds  of  that 
time.  In  fact,  the  joy  of  the  Revival  work 
arose  from  this,  that  no  person,  no  priest,  nor 
Church  usage,  was  needed  to  interpose  be- 
tween the  soul  and  the  Saviour.  Faith  in 
Christ,  and  His  immediate,  personal  presence 
with  the  soul  seeking  Him  by  faith,  as  it  was 
the  burden  of  the  best  of  the  sermons,  so  it 
was,  also,  of  all  the  great  hymns. 


The  Singers  of  the  Revival.  125 

The  origin  and  the  authors  of  several  emi- 
nent hymns  are  certainly  obscure.  To  Edward 
Perronet  must  be  assigned  the  authorship  of 
the  fine  coronation  anthem  of  the  Lamb  that 
was  slain  :  ''AH  hail  the  power  of  Jesus'  name!" 

Another,  which  has  become  a  universal  fav- 
ourite, is  ''Beyond  the  glittering  starry  globe." 
This  is  a  noble  and  inspiring  hymn;  only  a  few 
verses  are  usually  quoted  in  our  hymn-books. 
Lord  Selborne  divides  its  authorship  between 
Fanch  and  Turner.  We  have  seen  it  attributed 
to  Olivers  ;  this  is  certainly  a  mistake.  The 
Quarterly  Review,  in  a  very  able  paper  on 
hymnology,  reproducing  an  old  legend  con- 
cerning it,  traces  it  to  two  brothers  in  a 
humble  situation  in  life,  one  an  itinerant 
preacher,  the  other  a  porter.  The  preacher  de- 
sired the  porter  to  carry  a  letter  for  him.  "  I 
can't  go,"  said  the  porter,  "  I  am  writing  a 
hymn."  *'  You  write  a  hymn,  indeed  !  Non- 
sense !  you  go  with  the  letter,  and  I  will  finish 
the  hymn."  He  went,  and  returned,  but  the 
hymn  was  unfinished.  The  preacher  had  taken 
it  up  at  the  third  verse,  and  his  muse  had  for- 
saken him  at  the  eighth.  "  Give  me  the  pen," 
said  the  porter,  and  he  wrote  off, 

"  They  brought  His  chariot  from  above, 
To  bear  Him  to  His  throne ; 
Clapped  their  triumphant  wings,  and  cried, 
*  The  glorious  work  is  done  !'  " 


126  The  Great  Revival. 

Unfortunately  the  author  of  the  paper  in  the 
Quarterly  Review  appears  never  to  have  seen 
the  hymn  in  its  entirety.  The  verse  he  cites  is 
not  the  eighth,  but  the  twenty-second,  and  it 
has  been  mutilated  almost  wherever  quoted ; 
the  verse  itself  is  part  of  an  apostrophe  to  the 
angels,  recalling  their  ministrations  round  our 
Lord  : 

"  Tended  His  chariot  up  the  sky, 
And  bore  Him  to  His  throne  ; 
Then  swept  your  golden  harps  and  cried, 
'  The  glorious  work  is  done  !'  " 

Whoever  wrote  the  hymn  had  the  imagina- 
tion of  a  poet,  the  fine  pathos  of  a  believer,  and 
a  strong  lyrical  power  of  expression. 

Anecdotes  of  the  origin  of  many  of  our  great 
hymns  of  this  period  are  as  interesting  as  they 
are  almost  innumerable;  those  of  which  we  are 
speaking  are  hymns  of  the  Revival — to  speak 
concisely — perhaps  commenced  with  the  Wes- 
leys,  and  closed  with  Cowper  and  Newton.  It 
must  not  be  supposed  that  there  were  no 
singers  save  those  whose  verses  found  their 
way  into  the  Wesleyan  or  other  great  collec- 
tions of  hymns ;  there  were  James  Grant, 
Joseph  Griggs,  especially  notable.  Miss  Steele, 
the  author  of  a  great  number  of  hymns  of 
universal  acceptance  in  all  our  churches,  and 
which  are   more  like  those  of  Doddridge  than 


The  Singers  of  the  Revival.  127 

any  other  since  his  day.  Then  there  was  John 
Stocker, — but  we  would  particularly  notice  Job 
Hupton,  the  author  of  a  hymn  which  has  never 
been  included  in  any  hymn-book  except  Our 
Hymn  Booky  edited  by  the  author  of  this  volume, 
but  which  is  scarcely  inferior  to  ''  Beyond  the 
glittering  starry  sky." 

"  Come,  ye  saints,  and  raise  an  anthem, 

Cleave  the  skies  with  shouts  of  praise, 
Sing  to  Him  who  found  a  ransom , 

Ancient  of  eternal  days. 
Bring  your  harps,  and  bring  your  odours, 

Sweep  the  string  and  pour  the  lay  ; 
View  His  works  !  behold  His  wonders  ! 

I.et  hosannas  crown  the  day  !" 

The  hymn  is  far  too  long  for  quotation.  Job 
Hupton  was  a  Baptist  minister  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  Beccles,  where  he  died  in  1849,  i^i 
the  eighty-eighth  year  of  his  age,  and  the 
sixty-fifth  of  his  ministry. 

Thus  there  was  set  free  throughout  the  coun- 
try a  spirit  of  sacred  song  which  was  new  to 
the  experience  of  the  nation:  it  was  boldly 
evangelical;  it  was  devoted,  not  to  the  eulogy 
of  Church  forms  and  days;  there  was  not  a 
syllable  of  Mariolatry  ;  but  praise  to  Christ, 
earnest  meditation  upon  the  state  of  man 
without  His  work,  and  the  blessedness  of  the 
soul  which  had  risen  to  the  saving  apprehen- 
sion of  it.     This  forms  the  whole  substance  of 


128  The  Great  RevivaL 

the  Divine  melody.  It  has  seemed  to  some  that 
the  most  perfect  hymn  in  the  English  language 
is,  **  Jesus  !  lover  of  my  soul."  Sentiments 
may  differ,  arising  from  modifications  of  ex- 
perience, but  that  hymn  undoubtedly  is  the  very 
essence  of  all  the  hymns  which  were  sung  in 
the  days  of  the  Great  Revival.  For  the  first 
time  there  was  given  to  Christian  experience  that 
which  met  it  at  every  turn.  Watts  found  such 
a  choir,  and  such  an  audience  for  his  devotions, 
as  he  had  never  known  in  his  life;  and  ''Charles 
Wesley,"  says  Isaac  Taylor,  "  has  been  drawing 
thousands  in  his  wake  and  onward,  from  earth 
to  heaven."  The  hymns  met  and  united  all 
companies  and  all  societies.  The  bridal  party 
returned  from  church,  singing, 

*'  We  kindly  help  each  other, 
Till  all  shall  wear  the  starry  crown." 

If  they  gathered  round  the  grave,  they  sang; — 
and  what  a  variety  of  glorious  funereal  hymns 
they  had  !     But  that  was  a  great  favourite: 

"  There  all  the  ship's  company  meet, 
Who  sailed  with  their  Saviour  beneath  ; 
With  shoutings  each  other  they  greet. 
And  triumph  o'er  sorrow  and  death." 

Few  separations  took  place  without  that  song, 

"  Blest  be  the  dear  uniting  love, 
That  will  not  let  us  part." 


The  Singers  of  the  Revival.  129 

While  others  became  such  favourites  that  even 
almost  every  service  had  to  be  hallowed  by 
them;  such  as, 

"Jesus  !  the  name  high  over  all, 
In  hell,  or  earth,  or  sky  ;" 

while  an  equal  favourite  almost,  was, 

*'  Oh,  for  a  thousand  tongues  to  sing 
My  great  Redeemer's  praise  !" 

They  must  soon  have  become  very  well  known, 
for  so  early  as  1748,  when  a  sad  cluster  of  convicts, 
horse-stealers,  highway  robbers,  burglars,  smug- 
glers, and  thieves,  were  led  forth  to  execution, 
the  turnkey  of  the  prison  said  he  had  never  seen 
such  people  before.  The  Methodists  had  been 
among  them;  they  had  all  yielded  themselves 
to  the  power  of ''  the  truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus," 
and  on  their  way  to  Tyburn  they  all  sang 
together, 

"  Lamb  of  God  !  whose  bleeding  love 

We  now  recall  to  mind. 
Send  the  answer  from  above, 

And  let  us  mercy  find  ; 
Think  on  us,  who  think  of  Thee, 

And  every  struggling  soul  release  ; 
Oh  !  remember  Calvary, 

And  let  us  go  in  peace  !" 

The  hymns  found  their  way  to  sick  beds. 
The  old  Earl  of  Derby,  the  grandfather  of  the 
present  peer,  was  dying  at  Knowsley.     He  had 


130  The  Great  Revival. 

for  his  housekeeper  there  a  Mrs.  Brass,  a  good 
and  faithful  Methodist;  the  old  Earl  was  fond  of 
talking  with  her  upon  religious  matters,  and 
one  day  she  read  to  him  the  well-known  hymn, 
"  All  ye  that  pass  by,  to  Jesus  draw  nigh." 
When  she  came  to  the  lines, 

**  The  Lord  in  the  day  of  His  anger  did  lay 
Our  sins  on  the  Lamb,  and  he  bore  them  away," 

the  Earl  looked  up  and  said,  "  Stop  !  don't 
you  think,  Mrs.  Brass,  that  ought  to  be,  '  The 
Lord  in  the  day  of  his  mercy  did  lay '  T 

The  old  lady  did  not  admit  the  validity  of 
his  lordship's  theology;  but  it  very  abundantly 
showed  that  his  experience  had  passed  through 
the  verse,  and  reached  to  the  true  meaning  of 
the  hymn.  An  old  blind  woman  was  hearing 
Peter  McOwan  preach.     He  quoted  these  lines: 

*'  The  Lord  pours  eyesight  on  the  blind  ; 
The  Lord  supports  the  fainting  mind." 

The  poor  old  woman  was  not  happy  until  she 
met  the  preacher,  and  she  said,  "  But  are  there 
really  such  sweet  verses  }  Are  you  sure  the 
book  contains  such  a  hymn  T  and  he  read  the 
whole  to  her.     It  is  one  by  Watts  : 

"I'll  praise  my  Maker  while  I've  breath." 

'  Innumerable  are  the  anecdotes  of  these 
hymns;  they  inaugurated  really  the  rise  of  Eng- 


The  Singers  of  the  Revival,  131 

lish  hymnology;  and  it  is  not  too  much  to  say- 
that,  as  compared  with  them,  many  more  re- 
cent hymns  are  as  tinsel  compared  with  gold. 
A  writer  truly  says  :  *'  They  sob,  they  swell, 
they  meet  the  spirit  in  its  most  hushed  and 
plaintive  mood.  They  roll  and  bear  it  aloft,  in 
its  most  inspired  and  prophetic  moods,  as  on 
the  surge  of  more  than  a  mighty  organ  swell; 
among  the  mines  and  quarries,  and  wild  moors 
of  Cornwall,  among  the  factories  of  Lancashire 
and  Yorkshire,  in  chambers  of  death,  in  the 
most  joyous  assemblages  of  the  household, 
they  have  relieved  the  hard  lot,  and  sweetened 
the  pleasant  one;  and  even  in  other  lands  sol- 
diers and  sailors,  slaves  and  prisoners,  have  re- 
cited with  what  joy  these  words  have  entered 
into  their  life." 

Thus  the  great  hymns  of  this  period  grew 
and  became  a  religious  power  in  the  land, 
strangely  contradicting  a  verdict  which  Car- 
dinal Wiseman  pronounced  some  years  since, 
that  "  all  Protestant  devotion  is  dead."  While 
we  give  all  honour  to  the  fine  hymns  of  Den- 
mark and  Germany,  many  of  the  best  of  which 
were  translated  with  the  movement,  it  may, 
with  no  exaggeration,  be  said  that  the  hymn- 
ology of  England  in  the  eighteenth  century  is 
the  finest  and  most  complete  which  the  history 
of  the  Church  has  known. 


132  The  Great  Revival. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

LAY  PREACHING  AND  LAY  PREACHERS. 

There  came  with  the  work  of  the  Revival  a 
practice,  without  which  it  is  more  than  ques- 
tionable if  it  would  have  obtained  such  a  rapid 
and  abiding  hold  upon  the  various  populations 
and  districts  of  the  country ;  this  was  lay- 
preaching.  The  designation  must  have  a  more 
inclusive  interpretation  than  we  generally  ap- 
ply to  it;  we  must  understand  by  it  rather  the 
work  of  those  men  who,  in  contradistinction 
to  the  great  leaders  of  the  Revival — men  of 
scholarship,  of  universities,  and  of  education — 
possessed  none  of  these  qualifications,  or  but  in 
a  more  slight  and  undisciplined  degree.  They 
were  converted  men,  modified  by  various  tem- 
peraments; they  one  and  all  possessed  an  ar- 
dent zeal;  but,  in  many  instances,  we  shall 
find  that  they  were  as  much  devoted  to  the 
work  of  the  ministry  as  those  who  had  received 
a  regular  ordination.  It  is  singular  that  preju- 
dices so  strong  should  exist  against  lay  preach- 
ing and  preachers,  for  the  practice  has  surely 
received   the    sanction    of   the    most   ancient 


/ 


Lay  Preaching.  133 

usages  of  the  Church,  as  even  Dr.  Southey  ad- 
mits, in  his  notes  to  the  Life  of  Wesley.  Thus, 
in  the  history  of  the  Church,  this  phenomenon 
could  scarcely  be  regarded  as  new.  Orders  of 
preaching  friars;  "hedge-preachers,"  ''black, 
white,  and  grey,"  with  all  their  company;  dis- 
ciples of  Francis,  Dominic,  or  Ignatius,  had 
spread  over  Europe  during  the  dark  and 
mediaeval  ages.  Although  this  rousing  element 
of  Church  life  had  not  found  much  expression 
in  the  churches  of  the  Reformation,  yet  with 
the  impulse  of  the  new  Revival,  up  started 
these  men  by  multitudes.  The  reason  of  this 
was  very  simple.  There  is  a  well-known  little 
anecdote  of  some  town  missionary  standing  up 
in  a  broad  highway  preaching  to  a  multitude. 
He  was  arrested  by  a  Roman  Catholic  priest, 
who  asked  him  from  the  edge  of  the  crowd  by 
what  authority  he  dared  to  stand  there }  and 
who  had  given  him  the  right  to  preach  }  The 
man  had  his  New  Testament  in  his  hand;  he 
rapidly  turned  to  the  last  chapter  of  it,  and 
said,  ''  I  find  it  written  here,  '  Let  him  that 
heareth  say,  Come  !'  I  have  heard,  and  I  would 
say  Come  !"  The  anecdote  represents  suffi- 
ciently the  rise  and  progress  of  lay  preaching 
in  the  Revival.  There  first  appeared,  naturally, 
a  simple  set  of  men,  who,  in  their  different 
spheres,    would,   perhaps,    lead    and    direct    a 


134  The  Great  Revival. 

prayer-meeting,  and  round  it  with  some  pious 
and  gentle  exhortation.  We  have  already- 
pointed  out  the  necessity  soon  felt  for  frequent 
and  reciprocative  services  ;  these  were  not  the 
lay  preachers  to  whom  we  refer;  but  in  this 
fraternal  form  of  Church  fellowship,  the  lay 
preacher  had  his  origin. 

Wesley  imposed  restrictions  upon  his  helpers 
which  he  soon  found  himself  compelled  to  re- 
nounce.    John  Wesley  was  a  strong  adherent 
to   the   idea   of  Church   order.     The  first  lay 
preacher   in   his   communion   who    leapt   over 
the  traces   was  Thomas  Maxfield.     It  was  at 
the  Foundry  in  Moor  Fields.     Wesley  was  in 
Bristol,  and  the  intelligence  was  conveyed  to 
him.     He  appears  to  have  regarded  it  as  a  se- 
rious  and   dangerous   innovation.      The   good 
Susannah  Wesley,  his  mother — -now  past  three- 
score years  and  ten — infirm  and  feeble,  was  yet 
living  in   the  Chapel  House   of  the   Foundry. 
To  her  John  hurried  on  his  arrival  in  London ; 
and  after  his  affectionate  salutations  and  inqui- 
ries, he  expressed  such  a  manifest  dissatisfac- 
tion and  anxiety  that  she  inquired  the  cause. 
With  some  indignation  and  unusual  abruptness, 
he  said,  "  Thomas  Maxfield  has  turned  preacher, 
I  find;"  and  then  the  wise  and  saintly  woman 
gave  him  her  advice.     She  reminded  him  that, 
from   her  prejudices  against  lay  preaching  he 


Lay  Preaching.  135 

could  not  suspect  her  of  favouring  anything  of 
the  kind  ;  "but  take  care,"  she  said,  "what  you 
do  respecting  that  young  man,  for  he  is  as  surely 
called  of  God  to  preach  as  you  are."  She  ad- 
vised her  son  to  hear  Maxfield  for  himself.  He 
did  so,  and  at  once  buried  all  his  prejudices. 
He  exclaimed  ,after  the  sermon,  "It  is  the 
Lord,  let  Him  do  what  seemeth  Him  good ! " 
and  Thomas  Maxfield  became  the  first  of  a 
host  who  spread  all  over  the  country. 

It  may  be  supposed  that  the  Countess  of 
Huntingdon  very  naturally  shared  all  Wesley's 
prejudices  against  lay  preaching;  but  she  heard 
Maxfield  preach,  and  she  wrote  of  him,  "God 
has  raised  one  from  the  stones  to  sit  among 
the  princes  of  the  people.  He  is  my  astonish- 
ment ;  how  is  God's  power  shown  in  weakness! " 
and  she  soon  set  herself  to  the  work  of  supply- 
ing an  order  of  men,  of  whom  Maxfield  was  the 
first  to  lead  the  way.  By-and-by  came  another 
innovation :  the  lay  evangelists  at  first  never 
went  into  the  pulpit,  but  spoke  from  among 
the  people,  or  from  the  desk.  The  first  who 
broke  through  this  usage  was  Thomas  Walsh; 
we  will  say  more  of  him  presently.  He  was  a 
man  of  deep  humility,  and  his  life  reveals  entire 
and  extraordinary  consecration;  but  he  be- 
lieved himself  to  be  an  ambassador  for  Christ, 
and  he  walked  directly  up  into  the  pulpit,  never 


136  The  Great  Revk^al. 

questioning,  but  quite  disregarding  the  usual 
custom.  The  majesty  of  his  manner,  his  solemn, 
impressive,  and  commanding  eloquence,  for- 
bade all  remark;  and  henceforth  all  the  lay- 
preachers  followed  his  example.  There  arose 
a  band  of  extraordinary  men.  Let  the  reader 
refer  to  the  chronicles  of  their  lives,  and  the 
effects  of  their  labours,  and  he  will  not  suppose 
that  he  has  seen  anything  in  our  day  at  all 
approaching  to  what  they  were. 

Local  preachers  have  now  long  been  part  of 
the  great  organisation  of  Methodism.  But  in 
the  period  to  which  we  refer,  it  must  be 
remembered  that  the  pen  had  not  commenced 
the  exercise  of  its  more  popular  influence. 
There  were  few  authors,  few  journalists,  very 
few  really  popular  books;  these  men,  then,  with 
their  various  gifts  of  elevated  holiness,  broad  and 
rugged  humour,  or  glowing  imagination,  went 
to  and  fro  among  the  people,  rousing  and 
instructing  the  dormant  mind  of  the  country. 
Then  it  was  Wesley's  great  aim  to  sustain 
interest  by  variety.  Wesley  himself  said  that 
he  believed  he  should  preach  himself  and  his 
congregation  asleep  if  he  were  to  confine  his 
ministrations  to  one  pulpit  for  twelve  months. 
We  would  take  the  liberty  to  say  in  reference 
to  this,  that  it  would  depend  upon  whether  he 
kept  his  own  mind  fresh  and  wakeful  during 


Lay  Preachijig.  \yj 

the  time.  He  writes,  however  :  **  We  have 
found  by  long-  and  constant  experience,  that  a 
frequent  change  of  teachers  is  best;  this 
preacher  has  one  talent,  that  another.  No  one 
whom  I  ever  knew  has  all  the  talents  which 
are  needful  for  beginning,  continuing,  and  per- 
fecting the  work  in  a  whole  congregation ; 
neither,"  he  adds,  "•  can  he  find  matter  for 
preaching  morning  and  evening,  nor  will  the 
people  come  to  hear  him;  hence  he  grows  cold, 
and  so  do  the  people;  whereas  if  he  never  stays 
more  than  a  fortnight  together  in  one  place,  he 
may  find  matter  enough,  and  the  people  will 
gladly  hear  him." 

This  certainly  gives  an  idea  but  of  a  plain 
order  of  services;  and,  no  doubt,  some  of  Wes- 
ley's preachers  were  of  the  plainest.  There 
was  Michael  Fenwick,  of  whom  Wesley  says, 
''he  was  just  made  to  travel  with  me — an 
excellent  groom,  valet  de  chainbre,  nurse,  and, 
upon  occasion,  a  tolerable  preacher."  This 
good  man  was  one  day  vain  enough  to  complain 
to  Wesley,  that  although  he  was  constantly 
travelling  with  him,  his  name  was  never 
inserted  in  Wesley's  published  Journals.  In 
the  next  number  he  found  himself  immortalised 
with  his  master  there.  ''  I  left  Epworth," 
writes  Wesley,  ''  with  great  satisfaction,  and 
about   one,  preached   at   Clayworth.     I    think 


138  The  Great  Revival. 

none  were  unmoved  but  Michael  Fenwick,  who 
fell  fast  asleep  under  an  adjoining  hayrick." 

A  higher  type  of  man,  but  still  of  the  very 
plain  order  of  preachers,  was  Joseph  Bradford. 
He  also  was  Wesley's  frequent  travelling  com- 
panion, and  he  judged  no  service  too  servile  by 
which  he  could  show  his  reverence  for  his 
master.  But  on  one  occasion  Wesley  directed 
him  to  carry  a  packet  of  letters  to  the  post. 
The  occasion  was  very  extraordinary,  and 
Bradford  wished  to  hear  Wesley's  sermon  first. 
Wesley  was  urgent  and  insisted  that  the  letters 
must  go.  Bradford  refused;  he  would  hear  the 
sermon.  "  Then,"  said  Wesley,  "  you  and  I 
must  part !"  "'  Very  good,  sir,"  said  Bradford. 
The  service  was  over.  They  slept  in  the  same 
room.  On  rising  in  the  morning,  Wesley  ac- 
costed his  old  friend  and  companion,  and  asked 
if  he  had  considered  what  had  been  said, 
that  they  must  part.  **Yes,  sir,"  replied 
Bradford.  "  And  must  we  part  V  inquired 
Wesley.  *^  Please  yourself,  sir,"  was  the  re- 
ply. "Will  you  ask  my  pardon.?"  rejoined 
Wesley.  ''No,  sir."  ''You  wont.?"  "No, 
sir."  "  Then  I  will  ask  yours,"  repHed  the 
great  man.  It  is  said  that  Bradford  melted 
under  the  words,  and  wept  like  a  child.  But 
we  must  not  convey  the  idea  that  the  early 
preachers  were  generally  of  this  order.     **  In  a 


Lay  Preaching,  139 

great  house  there  are  vessels  to  honour  and 
vessels  to  dishonour."  *'  Vessels  of  dishonour" 
assuredly  were  none  of  these  men:  but  there 
were  some  who  attained  to  a  greatness  almost 
as  remarkable  as  the  greatness  of  the  three, 
Whitefield  and  the  Wesleys. 

What  a  man  was  John  Nelson  !  His  was  a 
life  full  of  singular  incidents.  It  was  truly 
apostolic,  whether  we  consider  its  holy  mag- 
nanimity, the  violence  and  vehemence  of  the 
cruel  persecutions  he  encountered,  or  his  singu- 
lar power  over  excited  mobs;  reminding  us 
sometimes  of  Paul  fighting  as  with  wild  beasts 
at  Ephesus,  or  standing  with  cunning  tact,  and 
disarming  at  once  captain  and  crowd  on  the 
steps  of  the  Castle  at  Jerusalem.  Then,  al- 
though he  was  but  a  poor  working  stone- 
mason, he  had  a  high  gentlemanly  bearing,  be- 
fore which  those  who  considered  themselves 
gentlemen,  magistrates  and  others,  fell  back 
abashed  and  ashamed.  He  was  one  of  the 
prophets  of  Yorkshire;  and  many  of  the  large 
Societies  at  this  day  in  Leeds,  Halifax,  and 
Bradford  owe  their  foundation  to  him.  It 
seems  wonderful  to  us  now,  that  merely  preach- 
ing the  word  of  truth,  and  especially  as  John 
Nelson  preached  it,  with  such  a  cheerful,  radi- 
ant, and  even  heavenly  manner,  should  bring 
out  mighty  mobs  to  assault  him.     The  stories 


140  The  Great  Revival, 

of  his  itinerancy  are  innumerable,  and  his  life 
is  really  one  of  the  most  romantic  in  these 
preaching  annals.  At  Nottingham,  while  he 
was  preaching,  the  crowds  threw  squibs  at  him 
and  round  him;  but,  as  he  was  still  pursuing 
his  path  of  speech,  a  sergeant  in  the  army 
pressed  up  to  him,  with  tears,  saying,  "■  In  the 
presence  of  God  and  all  this  company,  I  beg 
your  pardon.  I  came  here  on  purpose  to  mob 
you,  but  I  have  been  compelled,  to  hear  you; 
and  I  here  declare  I  believe  you  to  be  a  servant 
of  the  living  God  !"  He  threw  his  arms  round 
Nelson's  neck,  kissed  him,  and  went  away 
weeping;  and  we  see  him  no  more.  Perhaps 
more  remarkable  still  was  his  reception  at 
Grimsby.  There  the  clergyman  of  the  parish 
hired  a  drummer  to  gather  a  great  mob,  as  he 
said,  *'  to  defend  the  rights  of  the  Church." 
The  storm  which  raged  round  Nelson  was  wild 
and  ferocious  ;  but  it  illustrates  the  power  of 
this  extraordinary  man  over  his  rudest  hearers, 
that  after  beating  his  drum  for  a  long  time,  the 
poor  drummer  threw  it  away,  and  stood  listen- 
ing, the  tears  running  down  his  cheeks. 

Nelson  was  a  man  of  immense  physical 
strength;  his  own  trade  had  fostered  this,  and 
before  his  conversion  he  had,  no  doubt,  been 
feared  as  a  man  who  could  hit  out  and  hit  hard. 
As  the  most  effectual  means  of  silencing  him. 


^     ^ 


Lay  Preaching.  143 

he  was  pressed  for  a  soldier;  but  John  was  not 
only  a  Methodist,  he  had  adopted  the  Quaker 
notion  that  a  Christian  dare  not  fight;  and  he 
seems  to  have  been  a  real  torment  to  the  offi- 
cers and  men  of  the  regiment,  who  indeed 
marched  him  about  different  parts  of  the  coun- 
try, but  could  not  get  him  either  to  accept  the 
king's  money  or  to  submit  to  drill.  An  officer 
put  him  in  prison  for  rebuking  his  profanity, 
and  threatened  to  chastise  him.  Nelson  says, 
*'  It  caused  a  sore  temptation  to  arise  in  me;  to 
think  that  a  wicked,  ignorant  man  should  thus 
torment  me,  and  I  able  to  tie  hrs  head  and  heels 
together.  I  found  an  old  man's  bone  in  me; 
but  the  Lord  lifted  up  the  standard  within,  else 
should  I  have  wrung  his  neck  and  set  my  foot 
upon  him." 

At  length,  after  three  months,  the  Countess 
of  Huntingdon  procured  his  discharge.  The 
regiment  was  in  Newcastle.  He  preached  there 
on  the  evening  of  the  day  on  which  he  was 
liberated,  and  it  is  testified  that  a  number  of 
the.  soldiers  from  his  regiment  came  to  hear 
him,  and  parted  from  him  with  tears.  He  was 
arrested  as  a  vagrant,  without  any  visible 
means  of  living.  A  gentleman  instantly  stepped 
forward  and  offered  five  hundred  pounds  bail ; 
but  the  bail  was  refused.  He  was  able  to 
prove  that  he  was  a  high-charactered,  indus- 


144  T^h^  Great  Revival. 

trious  workman;  but  it  availed  nothing.  Crowds 
wept  and  prayed  for  him  as  he  was  borne 
through  the  streets.  *'  Fear  not ! "  he  cried, 
*'oh,  friends;  God  hath  His  way  in  the  whirl- 
wind, and  in  the  storm.  Only  pray  that  my 
faith  fail  not ! "  It  was  at  Bradford.  They 
thrust  him  into  a  most  filthy  dungeon.  The 
authorities  would  give  him  no  food.  The  peo- 
ple thrust  in  food,  water,  and  candles.  He 
shared  these  with  some  wretched  prisoners  in 
the  same  cage,  and  he  sang  hymns,  and  talked 
to  them  all  night.  He  was  marched  off  to 
York ;  but  there  the  excitement  was  so  great 
when  it  was  known  that  John  Nelson  was  com- 
ing a  prisoner  that  armed  troops  were  ordered 
out  to  guard  him.  He  says,  ''Hell  from  be- 
neath was  moved  to  meet  me  at  my  coming  !  " 
All  the  windows  were  crowded  with  people — 
some  in  sympathy,  but  most  cheering  and  huz- 
zaing as  if  some  great  political  traitor  had  been 
arrested;  but  he  says,  "The  Lord  made  my 
brow  like  brass,  so  that  I  could  look  upon  all 
the  people  as  grasshoppers,  and  pass  through 
the  city  as  if  there  had  been  none  in  it  but  God 
and  me." 

Such  was  John  Nelson.  These  anecdotes  are 
sufficient  to  show  the  manner  of  man  he  was. 
He  has  been  truly  called  **the  proto-martyr  of 
Methodism."     But  it  is  not  in  a  hint  or  two  that 


Lay  Preaching.  145 

all  can  be  said  which  ought  to  be  said  of  this 
noble  and  extraordinary  man.  His  conversion, 
perhaps,  sank  down  to  deeper  roots  than  in 
many  instances.  The  thoughts  of  Methodism 
found  him  perplexed  with  those  agonizing  ques- 
tions which  have  tormented  men  in  all  ages,  un- 
til they  have  realized  the  truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus. 
His  life  was  guilty  of  no  immoralities;  he  had 
a  happy,  humble  home,  was  industrious,  and 
receiving  good  wages;  but  as  he  walked  to 
and  fro  among  the  fields  he  was  distressed, 
*'for,"  he  said,  ''surely  God  never  made  man  to 
be  such  a  riddle  to  himself,  and  to  leave  him 
so."  He  heard  Wesley  preach.  "Then,"  he 
says,  "my  heart  beat  like  the  pendulum  of  a 
clock,  and  I  thought  his  whole  discourse  was 
aimed  at  me;"  and  so,  in  short,  he  became  a 
Methodist,  and  a  Methodist  preacher;  and 
among  the  noble  names  in  the  history  of  the 
Church  of  Christ,  in  his  own  line  and  order,  it 
may  be  doubted  whether  a  nobler  nam.e  can  be 
mentioned  than  that  of  John  Nelson. 

Quite  another  order  of  man,  less  human, 
but  equally  divine,  was  Thomas  Walsh.  His 
parents  were  Romanists,  and  he  was  intended 
by  them  for  the  Romish  priesthood;  and  he 
appears  to  have  been  an  intense  Romanist 
ascetic  until  about  eighteen  years  of  age.  He 
had  a  thoughtful  and  exceedingly  intense  na- 


146  The  Great  Revival. 

ture,  and  his  faith  was  no  rest  to  him.  In  his 
dilemma  he  heard  a  Methodist  preacher  speak 
one  day  from  the  text,  **Come  unto  Me,  all  ye 
that  labour  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give 
you  rest."  It  appears  to  have  been  the  turn- 
ing-point of  a  remarkable  life. 

''  The  life  of  Thomas  Walsh,"  says  Dr. 
Southey,  *'  might  almost  convince  a  Catholic 
that  saints  were  to  be  found  in  other  com- 
munions as  well  as  in  the  Church  of  Rome." 
Walsh  became  a  great  biblical  scholar  ;  he 
was  an  Irishman,  he  mastered  the  native 
Irish,  that  he  might  preach  in  it;  but  Latin, 
Greek,  and  Hebrew  became  familiar  to  him; 
and  of  the  Hebrew,  especially,  it  is  said  that 
he  studied  so  deeply,  that  his  memory  was  an 
entire  concordance  of  the  whole  Bible.  His 
soul  was  as  a  flame  of  fire,  but  it  burnt  out  the 
body  quickly.  John  Wesley  says  of  him,  *'  I  do 
not  remember  ever  to  have  known  a  man  who, 
in  so  few  years  as  he  remained  upon  earth,  was 
the  instrument  of  converting  so  many  sinners." 
He  became  mighty  in  his  influence  over  the 
Roman  Catholics.  The  priests  said  that 
*'  Walsh  had  died  some  years  ago,  and  that  he 
who  went  about  preaching,  on  mountains  and 
highways,  in  meadows,  private  houses,  prisons, 
and  ships,  was  a  devil  who  had  assumed  his 
shape."     This  was  the  only  way  in  which  they 


Lay  Preachmg.  147 

could  account  for  the  extraordinary  influence 
he  possessed.  His  labours  were  greatly  divided 
between  Ireland  and  London,  but  everywhere 
he  bore  down  all  before  him  by  a  kind  of 
absorbed  ecstasy  of  ardent  faith;  but  he  died  at 
the  age  of  twenty-seven.  While  lying  on  his 
death-bed  he  was  oppressed  with  a  sense  of 
despair,  even  of  his  salvation.  The  sufferings 
of  his  mind  on  this  account  were  protracted  and 
intense;  at  last  he  broke  out  in  an  exclamation, 
*'  He  is  come  !  He  is  come  !  My  Beloved  is 
mine,  and  I  am  His  for  ever  !"  and  so  he  fell 
back  and  died.  Thomas  Walsh  is  a  great  name 
still  in  the  records  of  the  lay  preachers  of  early 
Methodism. 

Ail  orders  of  men  rose:  different  from  any  we 
have  mentioned  was  George  Story,  whose 
quiet,  but  earnest  and  reasonable  nature,  seems 
to  have  commanded  the  especial  love  of 
Southey.  He  appears  never  to  have  become 
what  some  call  an  enthusiast;  but  he  interest- 
ingly illustrates,  that  it  was  not  merely  over  the 
rugged  and  uninformed  minds  that  the  power 
of  the  Revival  exercised  its  influence.  Very 
curiously,  he  appears  to  have  been  converted 
by  thinking  about  Eugene  Aram,  the  well- 
known  scholar,  whose  name  has  become  so 
celebrated  in  fiction  and  in  poetry,  and  who 
had   a  short    time    before   been    executed    for 


148  The  Great  Revival. 

murder  at  York.  Story  was  impressed  by  the 
importance  of  the  acquisition  of  knowledge, 
and  Aram's  extraordinary  attainments  kindled 
in  his  mind  a  sense  of  admiration  and  emulation; 
but,  as  he  thought  upon  his  life,  he  reasoned, 
"  What  did  this  man's  learning  profit  him  ?  It 
did  not  save  him  from  becoming  a  thief  and  a 
murderer,  or  even  from  attempting  his  own 
life."  It  was  an  immense  suggestion  to  him  ;  it 
led  him  upon  another  track  of  thinking.  The 
Methodists  came  through  his  village;  he  yielded 
himself  to  the  influence,  and  Dr.  Southey 
thinks  "  there  is  not  in  the  whole  biography  of 
Methodism  a  more  interesting  or  remarkable 
case  than  his."  He  became  a  great  preacher, 
but  disarmed  and  convinced  men  rather  by  his 
calm,  dispassionate  elevation  of  manner,  than 
by  such  weapons  as  the  cheerful  bonhomie  of 
Nelson,  or  the  fervid  fire  of  Walsh. 

But  we  are,  perhaps,  conveying  the  idea  that 
it  was  only  beneath  the  administration  of  John 
Wesley  that  these  great  lay  preachers  were  to 
be  found.  It  was  not  so;  but  no  doubt  beneath 
that  administration  their  itinerancy  became 
more  systematic  and  organised.  Whitefield 
does  not  appear  to  have  at  all  shared  Wesley's 
prejudices  on  this  means  of  usefulness ;  but  those 
men  who  fell  beneath  the  influence  of  White- 
field,  or  the  Countess,  seem  soon  to  meet  us  as 


Lay  Preaching,  149 

settled  ministers,  in  many,  if  not  in  allinstances. 
Among"  them  there  are  few  greater  names  in 
the  whole  Revival  than  those  of  Captain  Jona- 
than Scott  and  the  renowned  Captain  Toriel 
Joss.  Captain  Scott  was  a  captain  of  dragoons, 
and  one  of  the  heroes  of  Minden  ;  he  was 
converted  by  the  instrumentality  of  William 
Romaine,  who,  in  spite  of  his  prejudices  against 
lay  preaching,  encouraged  him  in  his  excursions, 
in  which  he  spoke  to  immense  crowds  with 
great  effect.  Fletcher,  of  Madeley,  said,  ''his 
coat  shames  many  a  black  one."  He  "was  a  gen- 
tleman of  an  ancient  and  opulent  family,  and 
the  Countess,  who,  naturally,  was  delighted  to 
see  people  of  her  own  order  by  her  side,  felt  her- 
self greatly  strengthened  by  him.  It  was  said, 
when  he  preached  at  Leeds,  the  whole  town 
turned  out  to  hear  him;  and  he  was  on©  of  the 
great  preachers  of  the  Tabernacle  in  Moorfields, 
during  more  than  twenty  years.  But  yet  a  far 
more  fam^ous  man  was  Toriel  Joss.  He  was  a 
captain  of  the  seas,  and  had  led  a  life  which 
somewhat  reminds  us  of  Newton's.  He  was  a 
good  and  even  great  sailor,  but  he  became  a 
greater  preacher.  Whitefield  said  of  these  two 
men,  that  "  God,  who  sitteth  upon  the  flood, 
can  bring  a  shark  from  the  ocean,  and  a  lion 
from  the  forest,  to  show  forth  his  praise."  Joss 
was  a  man  of  property,  with  a  fair  prospect  of 


I50 


The  Gi'eat  Revival. 


considerable  wealth,  when  he  renounced  the 
seas  and  became  one  of  the  great  lay  preachers. 
Whitefield  insisted  that  he  should  abandon  the 
chart,  the  compass,  and  the  deck,  and  take  to 
the  pulpit.  He  did  so.  In  London  his  fame 
was  second  only  to  that  of  Whitefield  himself. 


TABERNACLE,    MOORFIELDS. 


He  became  Whitefield's  coadjutor  at  the  Taber- 
nacle, where,  first  as  associate  pastor,  and 
afterwards  as  pastor,  he  continued  for  thirty 
years.  The  chapel  at  Tottenham  Court  Road 
was  his  chief  field,  and  John  Berridge  called  him 
"  Whitefield's  Archdeacon  of  Tottenham." 


Lay  Preaching.  151 

We  cannot  particularise  others  :  there  were 
Sampson  Staniforth,  the  soldier,  Alexander 
Mather,  Christopher  Hopper,  John  Haime, 
John  Parson — and  these  are  only  representative 
names.  There  were  crowds  of  them ;  they 
travelled  to  and  fro,  with  hard  fare,  throughout 
the  land.  Their  excursions  were  not  recrea- 
tions or  amusements.  Attempt  to  think  what 
England  was  at  that  time.  It  is  a  fact  that 
they  often  had  to  swim  through  streams  and 
wade  through  snows  to  keep  their  appoint- 
ments ;  often  to  sleep  in  summer  in  the  open 
air,  beneath  the  trees  of  a  forest.  Sometimes  a 
preacher  was  seen  with  a  spade  strapped  to  his 
back,  to  cut  a  way  for  man  and  horse  through 
the  heavy  snow-drifts.  Highwaymen  were 
abroad,  and  there  are  many  odd  stories  about 
their  encounters  with  these  men  ;  but,  then, 
usually,  they  had  nothing  to  lose.  Rogers,  in 
his  Lives  of  the  Early  Preachers,  tells  a  charac- 
teristic story.  One  of  these  lay  preachers,  as 
usual  on  horseback,  was  waylaid  by  three  rob- 
bers; one  of  them  seized  the  bridle  of  his  horse, 
the  second  put  a  pistol  to  his  head,  the  third 
began  to  pull  him  from  the  saddle — all,  of 
course,  declaring  that  they  would  have  his 
money  or  his  life.  The  preacher  looked  sol- 
emnly at  them,  and  asked  them  "  if  they  had 
prayed  that  morning."     This  confounded  them 


152  The  Great  Revival. 

a  little,  still  they  continued  their  work  of  plun- 
der. One  pulled  out  a  knife  to  rip  the  saddle- 
bag open;  the  preacher  said,  *^  There  are  only 
some  books  and  tracts  there;  as  to  money,  I 
have  only  twopence  halfpenny  in  my  pocket  ;" 
he  took  it  out  and  gave  it  them.  ''All  that 
I  have  of  value  about  me,"  he  said,  *'  is  my 
coat.  I  am  a  servant  of  God  ;  I  am  going  on 
His  errand  to  preach  ;  but  let  me  kneel  down 
and  pray  with  you;  that  will  do  you  more  good 
than  anything  I  can  give  you."  One  of  them 
said,  ''  I  will  have  nothing  to  do  with  anything 
we  can  get  from  this  man  !"  They  had  taken 
his  watch;  they  restored  this,  and  took  up  the 
bags  and  fastened  them  again  on  the  horse. 
The  preacher  thanked  them  for  their  great 
civility  to  him;  ''But  now,"  said  he,  "I  will 
pray  !"  and  he  fell  upon  his  knees,  and  prayed 
with  great  power.  Two  of  the  rascals,  utterly 
frightened  at  this  treatment,  started  off  as  fast 
as  their  legs  could  carry  them;  the  third — he 
who  had  first  refused  to  have  anything  to  do 
with  the  job — continued  on  his  knees  with  the 
preacher  ;  and  when  they  parted  company  he 
promised  that  he  would  try  to  lead  a  new  life, 
and  hoped  to  become  a  new  man. 

Should  the  reader  search  the  old  magazines 
and  documents  in  which  are  enshrined  the 
records  of  the  early  days  of  the  Revival,  he  will 


Lay  Preaching.  1 53 

find  many  incidents  showing  what  a  romantic 
story  is  this  of  the  self-denials,  the  difficulties, 
and  enthusiasm  of  these  men,  whose  best  record 
is  on  high — most  of  them  faithful  men,  like 
Alexander  Coates,  who,  after  a  life  of  singular 
length  and  usefulness  in  the  work,  went  to  his 
rest.  His  talents  were  said  to  be  extraordin- 
ary, both  in  preaching  and  in  conversation. 
Just  as  he  was  dying,  one  of  his  brethren  called 
upon  him  and  said,  "You  don't  think  you  have 
followed  a  cunningly-devised  fable  now  V  ''  No, 
no,  no  !"  said  the  dying  man.  *'And  what  do 
you  see  T  "  Land  ahead  !"  said  the  old  man. 
They  were  his  last  words.  Such  were  the  men 
of  this  Great  Revival;  so  they  lived  their  lives 
of  faithful  usefulness,  and  so  they  passed  away. 


154  ^^^  Great  Revival 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

A  GALLERY    OF  REVIVALIST   PORTRAITS. 

If  we  were  writing  a  sustained  history  of  the 
Revival,  we  might  devote  some  pages,  at  this 
period,  to  notice  the  varied  forms  of  satire  and 
ribaldry  by  which  it  was  greeted.  While  the 
noble  bands  of  preachers  were  pursuing  their 
way,  instructing  and  awakening  the  popular 
mind  of  the  country,  not  only  heartless  and 
affected  dilettanti,  like  Horace  Walpole,  re- 
garded it  with  the  condescension  of  their  su- 
percilious sneers,  but  for  the  more  popular  taste 
there  was  The  Spiritual  Quixote^  a  book  which 
even  now  has  its  readers,  and  in  which  White- 
field  and  his  followers  were  held  up  to  ridicule; 
and  Lackington,  the  great  bookseller,  in  his 
disgraceful,  but  entertaining  autobiography,  at- 
tempted to  cover  the  Societies  of  Wesley  with 
his  scurrility.  It  was  about  the  year  1750  that 
The  Minor  was  brought  out  on  the  stage  of  the 
Haymarket  Theatre;  the  author  was  that  great 
comedian,  but  most  despicable  and  dissolute 
character,  Foote.  The  play  lies  before  us  as 
we  write;  we  have  taken  it  down  to  notice  the 
really   shameless   buffoonery  and  falsehood  in 


A  Gallery  of  Revivalist  Po}' traits.        155 

which  it  indulges.  Whitefield  is  especially 
libelled  and  burlesqued.  The  Countess  of 
Huntingdon  waited  personally  on  the  Lord 
Chamberlain,  and  besought  him  to  suppress  it; 
it  was  not  much  to  the  credit  of  his  lordship's 
knowledge,  that  he  declared,  had  he  known  the 
evil  influence  of  the  thing  before  it  was  licensed, 
it  should  not  have  been  produced,  but  being 
licensed,  it  was  beyond  his  control.  Then  the 
good  Countess  waited  on  David  Garrick;  Gar- 
rick  knew  and  admired  Whitefield;  he  received 
her  with  distinguished  kindness  and  respect, 
and  it  is  to  his  honour  that,  through  his  influ- 
ence, it  was  temporarily  suppressed.  It  seems 
a  singular  compensation  that  the  author  of  this 
piece,  who  permitted  himself  to  indulge  in  the 
most  disgraceful  insinuations  against  one  of  the 
holiest  and  purest  of  men,  a  few  years  after  was 
charged  with  a  great  crime,  of  which  he  was, 
no  doubt,  quite  innocent,  and  died  a  broken- 
hearted and  beggared  man. 

Another  of  these  disgraceful  stage  libels.  The 
Hypocrite y  appeared  at  Drury  Lane  in  1768;  in 
it  are  the  well-known  characters  of  Dr.  Cant- 
well,  and  Mawworm,  and  old  Lady  Lambert. 
There  is  more  of  a  kind  of  genius  in  it  than  in 
The  Minor y  but  it  was  all  stolen  property,  and 
little  more  than  an  appropriation  from  Moliere's 
Tartuffe  and   Gibber's    Nonjuror.      All    these 


156  The  Great  Revival. 

things  are  forgotten  now;  but  they  are  worthy 
of  notice  as  entering  into  the  history  of  the 
Revival,  and  showing  the  malice  which  was 
stirred  in  multitudes  of  minds  against  men  and 
designs,  on  the  whole,  so  innocent  and  holy. 
Was  it  not  written  from  of  old,  ''  The  carnal 
mind  is  enmity  against  God  "  ? 

But  as  to  the  movement  itself,  companions- 
in-arms,  and  of  a  very  high  order  alike  for  val- 
our and  character,  crowded  to  the  field  ;  we 
have  referred  to  several  distinguished  laymen  ; 
it  is  at  least  equally  important  to  notice  that 
while  the  leaders  of  the  Church  were,  as  a 
body,  set  in  array  against  it — while  archbish- 
ops and  bishops  of  that  day  frowned,  or  scoffed 
and  scorned,  there  were  a  number  of  clergymen 
whose  piety,  whose  wit  and  eloquence,  whose 
affluent  humour,  whose  learning,  whose  intrep- 
idity and  sleepless  variety  of  labour,  surround 
their  names,  even  now  as  then,  with  a  charm 
of  interest,  making  every  life  as  it  comes  before 
us  a  readable  and  delightful  recreation.  Some 
of  them  were  assuredly  oddities;  it  is  not  long 
since  we  made  a  pilgrimage  to  Everton,  in 
Bedfordshire,  to  read  the  singular  epitaph,  on 
the  tomb  in  the  churchyard,  of  one  of  the  odd- 
est and  most  extraordinary  of  all  these  men. 
Even  if  our  readers  have  read  that  epitaph,  it 
will  do  them  no  harm  to  read  it  again : 


A  Gallery  of  Revivalist  Portraits.        15/ 

Here  lie 

The  earthly  remains  of 

John  Berridge, 

Late  Vicar  of  Everton, 

And  an  itinerant  servant  of  Jesus  Christ, 

Who  loved  his  Master,  and  His  work, 

And  after  running  on  His  errands  many  years. 

Was  called  up  to  wait  on  Him  above. 

Reader, 

Art  thou  bom  again  ? 

No  salvation  without  a  New  Birth  ! 

I  was  bom  in  sin,  February,  1 7 16, 

Remained  ignorant  of  my  fallen  state  till  1 730, 

Lived  proudly  on  Faith  and  Works  for  Salvation 

Till  1 75 1. 

Was  admitted  to  Everton  Vicarage,  1755. 

Fled  to  Jesus  alone  for  refuge,  1756. 

Fell  asleep  in  Christ  Jesus,  January  22,  1793. 

With  the  exception  of  the  date  of  his  death, 
it  was  written  by  the  hand  that  moulders  be- 
neath the  stone  ;  it  is  characteristic  that  its 
writer  caused  himself  to  be  buried  in  that  part 
of  the  churchyard  where,  up  to  that  time,  only 
those  had  been  interred  who  had  destroyed 
themselves,  or  come  to  an  ignominious  end. 
Before  his  death  he  had  often  said  that  he 
would  take  this  effectual  means  of  consecrating 
that  unhallowed  spot. 

This  epitaph  sufficiently  shows  that  John 
Berridge  was  an  original  character.  Southey 
says  of  him  that  he  was  a  buffoon  and  a  fanatic. 
Southey's  judgments  about  the  men  of  the  Re- 


158  The  Great  Revival. 

vival  were  frequently  as  shallow  as  they  were 
unjust;  he  must  have  felt  a  sharp  sting  when, 
as  doubtless  was  the  case,  he  heard  the  well- 
known  anecdote  of  George  IV.,  who,  on  read- 
ing Richard  Watson's  calm  reply  to  Southey's 
attacks  on  the  Methodist  leaders,  exclaimed, 
as  he  laid  down  the  book,  *'0h,  my  poor  Poet 
Laureate  !"  He  deserved  all  that  and  a  good 
deal  more,  if  only  for  the  verdict  we  have 
quoted  on  Berridge.  So  far  as  scholarship  may 
test  a  man,  John  Berridge  was  most  likely  a 
far  deeper  scholar  than  Dr.  Southey;  he  was  a 
distinguished  member  of  Clare  Hall,  Cambridge, 
and  for  many  years  read  and  studied  fourteen 
hours  a  day;  but  he  was  an  uncontrollable  droll 
and  humourist;  pithy  proverbs  fell  spontaneous- 
ly along  all  his  speech.  As  one  critic  says  of 
his  style,  **  It  was  like  granulated  salt."  As  a 
preacher,  he  was  equal  to  any  multitudes  ;  he 
lived  among  farmers  and  graziers,  and  the 
twinkling  of  his  eye,  all  alive  with  shrewd 
cheerfulness,  compelled  attention  even  before 
he  opened  his  lips.  The  late  Dr.  Guthrie,  not 
long  before  his  death,  thought  it  worth  his 
while  to  republish  The  Christian  World  Un- 
masked; pray  Come  and  Peep;  and  it  is  charac- 
teristic of  Berridge  throughout. 

After  his  conversion,  his  Bishop  called  him 
up  and   threatened   to   send    him    to  gaol   for 


A  Gallery  of  Revivalist  Portraits.        159 

preaching  out  of  his  parish.  Our  readers  may 
imagine  with  such  a  man  what  sort  of  confer- 
ence it  was,  and  which  of  the  two  would  be 
likely  to  get  the  worst  of  it:  "  I  tell  you,"  said 
the  Bishop,  *'ifyou  continue  preaching  where 
you  have  no  right,  you  are  very  likely  to  be 
sent  to  Huntingdon  Gaol."  "■  I  have  no  more 
regard  for  a  gaol  than  other  folks,"  said  he; 
''but  I  would  rather  go  there  with  a  good  con- 
science than  be  at  liberty  without  one."  The 
conference  is  too  long  for  quotation,  but  Ber- 
ridge  held  on  his  way;  he  became  one  of  the 
most  beloved  and  intimate  friends  of  the 
Countess  of  Huntingdon;  and  if  he  shocked  his 
bishop  by  preaching  out  of  his  own  parish,  he 
must  have  roused  his  wrath  by  preaching  in 
her  ladyship's  chapel  in  London,  and  through- 
out the  country.  His  letters  to  the  Countess 
are  as  characteristic  as  his  speech,  or  any  other 
of  his  writings.  Thus  he  writes  to  her  about 
young  Rowland  Hill,  ''I  find  you  have  got 
honest  Rowland  down  to  Bath  ;  he  is  a  pretty 
young  spaniel,  fit  for  land  or  water,  and  he  has 
a  wonderful  yelp;  he  forsakes  father  and  mother 
and  brethren,  and  gives  up  all  for  Jesus,  and  I 
believe  he  will  prove  a  useful  labourer  if  he 
keeps  clear  of  petticoat  snares."  No  doubt, 
Berridge  sometimes  seemed  not  only  racy,  but 
rude;  but   his  words  were  wonderfully  calcu- 


i6o  The  Great  Revival. 

lated  to  meet  the  average  and  level  of  an  im- 
mense congregation.  While  he  lived  on  terms 
of  fellowship  with  all  the  great  leaders  of  the 
movement,  he  was  faithful  as  the  vicar  of  his 
own  parish,  and  was  the  apostle  of  the  whole 
region  of  Bedfordshire. 

With  all  his  shrewd  worldly  wisdom,  Ber- 
ridge  had  a  most  benevolent  hand;  he  was  rich, 
and  devoted  far  more  than  the  income  of  his 
vicarage  to  helping  his  poor  neighbours,  sup- 
porting itinerant  ministers,  renting  houses 
and  barns  for  preaching  the  Gospel,  and,  how- 
ever far  he  travelled  to  preach,  always  disburs- 
ing his  expenses  from  his  own  pocket.  How 
he  would  have  loved  John  Bunyan,  and  how 
John  Bunyan  would  have  loved  him  !  It  is 
curious  that  within  a  few  miles  of  the  place 
where  the  illustrious  dreamer  was  so  long 
imprisoned,  one  should  arise  out  of  the  very 
Church  which  persecuted  Bunyan,  to  do  for  a 
long  succession  of  years,  on  the  same  ground, 
the  work  for  which  he  was  persecuted. 

From  the  low  Bedford  level,  what  a  flight  to 
the  wildest  spot  in  wild  Yorkshire,  Haworth, 
and  its  venerable  old  parish  church,  celebrated 
now  as  a  classic  region,  haunted  by  the  memory 
of  the  author  of  Jane  Eyre,  and  all  the  Bronte 
family;  but  in  the  times  of  which  we  are  writing, 
the   vicar,  William   Grimshaw,   was   quite    as 


A  Gallery  of  Revivalist  Portraits.       i6i 

queer  and  quaint  a  creature  as  Berridge.  A 
wild  spot  now — a  stern,  grand  place;  desolate 
moors  still  seeming  to  stretch  all  round  it; 
though  more  easily  reached  in  this  day,  it  must 
indeed  have  been  a  rough  solitude  when  William 
Grimshaw  became  its  vicar,  in  1742.  He  was 
born  in  1708;  he  died  in  1763.  He  was  a  man 
something  of  the  nature  of  the  wild  moors 
around  him.  When  he  became  the  pastor  of 
the  parish,  the  people  all  round  him  were 
plunged  in  the  most  sottish  heathenism.  The 
pastor  was  a  kind  of  son  of  the  desert,  and  he 
became  such  an  one  as  the  Baptist,  crying  in 
the  wilderness.  The  people  were  rough,  they 
perhaps  needed  a  rough  shepherd;  they  had 
one.  The  character  of  Grimshaw  is  that  of  a 
rough,  faithful,  and  not  less  beautiful  shepherd's 
dog.  On  the  Sabbath  morning  he  would  com- 
mence his  service,  giving  out  the  psalm,  and 
having  taken  note  of  the  absentees  from  the 
congregation,  would  start  off,  while  the  psalm 
was  being  sung,  to  drive  in  the  loiterers,  visiting 
the  ale-houses,  routing  out  the  drinkers,  and 
literally  compelling  them  to  come  into  the 
parish  church.  One  Sabbath  morning,  a 
stranger  riding  through  Haworth,  seeing  some 
men  scrambling  over  a  garden  wall,  and  some 
others  leaping  through  a  low  window,  imagined 
the  house  was  on  fire.     He  inquired  what  was 


1 62  The  Great  Revival. 

the  matter.  One  of  them  cried  out,  ''The 
parson's  a  coming  !"  and  that  explained  the 
riddle.  Upon  another  occasion,  as  a  man  was 
passing  through  the  village,  on  the  Sabbath 
day,  on  his  way  to  call  a  doctor,  his  horse  lost 
a  shoe.  He  found  his  way  to  the  village 
smithy  to  have  his  loss  repaired.  The  black- 
smith told  him  that  it  was  the  Lord's  day,  and  the 
work  could  not  be  done  unless  the  minister 
gave  his  permission.  So  they  went  to  the  par- 
son, who,  of  course,  as  the  case  was  urgent  and 
necessary,  gave  his  consent.  But  the  story 
illustrates  the  mastery  the  vicar  attained  over 
the  rough  minds  around  him.  He  was  a  man 
of  a  hardy  mould.  He  was  intensely  earnest. 
He  not  only  effected  a  mighty  moral  change  in 
his  own  parish,  but  Haworth  was  visited  every 
Sabbath  by  pilgrims  from  miles  round  to  listen 
to  this  singular,  strong,  mountain  voice;  so  that 
the  church  became  unequal  to  the  great  con- 
gregations, and  he  often  had  to  preach  in  the 
churchyard,  a  desolate  looking  spot  now,  but 
alive  with  mighty  concourses  then.  It  is  said 
that  his  strong,  pithy  words  haunted  men  long 
after  they  were  spoken;  as  the  infidel  nobleman, 
who,  in  an  affected  manner,  told  him  he  was 
unable  to  see  the  truth  of  Christianity.  "The 
fault,"  said  the  rough  vicar,  "is  not  so  much  in 
your  lordship's  head  as  in  your  heart." 


A  Gallery  of  Revivalist  Portraits.       165 

Grimshaw  was  the  first  who  kindled  in  the 
wild  heights  of  Yorkshire  the  flames  of  the 
Revival.  His  mind  was  stirred  simultaneously 
with  others,  but  he  does  not  appear  to  have 
received  either  from  Whitefield  or  Wesley  the 


^m 


GRIMSHAW'S  HOUSE. 


impulses  which  created  his  extraordinary  char- 
acter, though  he,  of  course,  entered  heartily 
into  all  their  work.  They  visited  Haworth, 
and  preached  to  immense  concourses  there. 
As  to  Grimshaw  himself,  in  the  most  irregular 


1 66  The  Great  Revival. 

manner,  he  preached  in  the  Methodist  convent- 
icles and  dissenting  chapels  in  all  the  country 
round.  He  effected  an  entires  change  in  his 
own  neighbourhood.  He  put  down  the  races  ; 
he  reformed  the  village  feasts,  wakes,  and  fairs. 
He  was  often  expecting  suspension,  and  at  last 
he  was  cited  before  the  Archbishop,  who  in- 
quired of  him  as  to  the  number  of  his  com- 
municants. "  How  many,"  said  his  grace,  "had 
you  when  you  first  went  to  Haworth  T 
''Twelve."  "  And  how  many  now  V  "  In  the 
summer,  about  twelve  hundred."  The  aston- 
ished Archbishop  turned  to  his  assistants  in 
the  examination,  and  said,  "  I  really  cannot 
find  fault  with  Mr.  Grimshaw  when  he  brings  so 
many  people  to  the  Lord's  Table."  Southey  is 
also  complimentary,  in  his  own  way,  to  this 
singular  clergyman,  and  says,  "He  was  cer- 
tainly mad  !" 

It  was  what  Festus  said  to  Paul ;  but  the 
madness  of  the  pastor  of  Haworth  was  a  bless- 
ing to  the  farms  and  cottages  of  those  wild 
moorlands.  He  was  a  child  of  nature  in  her 
most  beautiful  moods,  glorified  by  Divine  grace. 
The  freshness  and  buoyancy  of  the  heath  his 
foot  so  lightly  pressed,  and  the  torrents  which 
sung  around  him,  were  but  typical  of  his  hardy 
naturalness  and  beauty  of  character.  Truly  it 
has  been  said,  it  was  not  more  natural  that  the 


)t  <^teni  Hebibal. 


William  Grimshaw. 


p.  168. 


A  Gallery  of  Revivalist  Po7' traits,       169 

gentle  lover  of  nature  should  lie  at  the  foot  of 
Helvellyn,  than  that  this  watchman  of  the 
mountains  should  sleep  at  the  foot  of  the  hills 
amongst  which  he  had  so  faithfully  laboured. 
He  died  comparatively  young.  His  last  words 
were  very  characteristic.  Robert  Shaw,  an  old 
Methodist  preacher,  called  upon  him;  he  said, 
*'I  will  pray  for  you  as  long  as  I  live,  and  if 
there  is  praying  in  heaven,  I  will  pray  for  you 
there;  I  am  as  happy  as  I  can  be  on  earth,  and 
as  sure  of  glory  as  if  I  were  in  it."  His  last 
words  were,  ''  Here  goes  an  unprofitable  serv- 
ant !" 

The  wild  Yorkshire  of  that  day  took  up  the 
Revival  with  a  will;  and  Henry  Venn,  of  Hud- 
dersfield,  we  suppose,  has  even  transcended  by 
his  usefulness  the  fame  of  either  Berridge  or 
Grimshaw  ;  he  was  born  in  1724,  and  died  in 
1797.  His  life  was  genial  and  fruitful,  and  to 
his  church  in  Huddersfield  the  people  poured 
in  droves  to  listen  to  him.  It  has  been  said  his 
life  was  like  a  field  of  wheat,  or  a  fine  summer 
day.  And  how  are  these  to  be  painted  or  put 
upon  the  canvas  }  He  could  scarcely  be  called 
eccentric,  excepting  in  the  sense  in  which 
earnestness,  holiness,  and  usefulness  are  always 
eccentric.  His  influence  may  be  said,  in  some 
directions,  to  continue  still.  He  was  one  of  the 
indefatigable  coadjutors  of  the  Countess  in  all 


I/O  The  Great  Revival. 

her  work,  and  towards  the  close  of  his  Hfe  he 
came  to  London  to  throw  his  influence  round 
young  Rowland  Hill,  by  preaching  for  some 
time  in  Surrey  Chapel. 

In  another  district  of  Yorkshire,  a  mighty 
movement  was  going  on,  commencing  about 
1734.  Benjamin  Ingham,  whom  we  met  some 
time  since  at  Oxford,  as  a  member  of  the  Holy 
Club,  was  living  at  Ossett,  near  Dewsbury.  He 
had  married  Lady  Margaret  Hastings,  a 
younger  sister  of  the  Countess  of  Huntingdon. 
He  had  received  ordination  in  the  Church  of 
England,  but  his  irregularities  had  forced  him 
out.  Like  the  Wesleys,  in  the  earlier  part  of 
his  history,  he  became  enchanted  with  the 
devotional  life  of  the  Moravians,  and  at  this 
period  he  introduced  with  marvellous  results  a 
modified  Moravianism  into  the  West  Riding  of 
Yorkshire.  He  founded  as  many  as  eighty 
Societies;  but  he  appears  to  have  attempted  to 
carry  out  an  impossible  scheme,  the  union  of 
the  Moravian  discipline  and  doctrine  with  his 
idea  of  Congregationalism.  His  influence  over 
the  West  Riding  for  a  long  time  was  immense; 
but,  most  naturally,  divisions  arose,  and  the 
purely  Moravian  element  separated  itself  into 
its  own  order  of  Church  life,  while  the  Methodist 
element  was  absorbed  in  the  great  and  growing 
Wesleyan  Societies.     He  was  a  friend  of  Count 


A  Gallery  of  Revivalist  Portraits.       i/i 

Zinzendorf,  who  was  his  guest  for  a  long  time 
at  Ledstone  House.  The  shock  which  his 
Society  sustained,  and  the  death  of  Lady 
Margaret,  his  admirable  and  beloved  wife, 
were  blows  from  which  the  good  man  never 
recovered;  but  the  effects  of  his  usefulness  con- 
tinued, although  he  passed ;  and  if  the  reader 
ever  visits  the  little  Moravian  Colony  and 
Institution  of  Fulneck,  near  Leeds,  in  York- 
shire, he  may  be  pleased  to  remember  that 
this  is  also  one  of  the  offshoots  of  the  Great 
Revival. 

It  is  a  sudden  leap  from  the  West  Riding  of 
Yorkshire  to  Truro,  the  charming  little  capital 
of  Western  Cornwall.  We  are  here  met  by 
an  imperishable  and  beautiful  name,  that  of 
Samuel  Walker,  the  minister  ;  he  was  born  in 
1714,  and  died  in  1761.  His  influence  over  his 
town  was  great  and  abiding,  and  Walker  of 
Truro  is  a  name  which  to  this  day  retains  its 
fragrance,  as  associated  with  the  restoration  of 
his  town  from  wild  depravity  to  purity  and  ex- 
emplary piety. 

How  impossible  it  is  to  do  more  than  merely 
mention  the  names  of  men,  every  action  of 
whose  lives  was  consecrated,  and  every  breath 
an  ardent  flame,  all  helping  on  and  urging  for- 
ward the  great  work  of  rousing  a  careless  world 
and  a  careless  Church.     What  an  influence  had 


172  The  Great  Revival. 

William  Romaine,  who  for  a  long  time,  it  has 
been  said,  was  one  of  the  sights  of  London  ;  it 
was  rather  drolly  put  when  it  was  said,  "  People 
came  from  the  country  to  see  Garrick  act  and 
to  hear  Romaine  preach  !"  Nor  let  our  readers 
suppose  that  he  was  a  mere  sensational  orator; 
he  was  a  great  scholar.  We  hear  of  him  first 
as  the  Gresham  Professor  of  Astronomy,  and 
the  editor  of  the  four  volumes  of  Calasio's 
Hebrew  Concordance ;  then  he  caught  the 
evangelic  fire;  he  became  one  of  the  chaplains 
of  the  Countess  of  Huntingdon,  and,  so  far  as 
the  Church  of  the  Establishment  was  con- 
cerned, he  was  the  most  considerable  light  of 
London  for  a  period  of  nearly  fifty  years  ;  and 
very  singular  was  his  history  in  this  relation, 
especially  in  some  of  the  churches  whose  pul- 
pits he  filled.  It  seems  singular  to  us  now  how 
even  his  great  talents  could  obtain  for  him  the 
place  of  morning  lecturer  at  St.  George's,  Han- 
over Square  ;  but  the  charge  was  soon  urged 
against  him  that  he  vulgarised  that  most 
fashionable  of  congregations,  and  most  uncom- 
fortably crowded  the  church.  He  was  appoint- 
ed evening  lecturer  at  St.  Dunstan's  in  Fleet 
Street ;  but  the  rector  barred  his  entrance  into 
the  pulpit,  seating  himself  there  during  the 
time  of  prayers,  so  that  the  preacher  might  be 
unable  to  enter.     Lord  Mansfield  decided  that, 


A  Gallery  of  Revivalist  P 07- traits.       175 

after  seven  in  the  evening,  the  church  was  not 
the  rector's,  but  that  Mr.  Romaine  was  entitled 
to  the  use  of  it;  then,  at  seven  in  the  evening, 
the  churchwardens  closed  the  church  doors, 
and  kept  the  congregation  outside,  wearying 
them  in  the  rain  or  in  the  cold.  At  length,  the 
patience  of  the  churchwardens  gave  way  before 
the  persistency  of  the  people  and  the  preacher; 
but  it  was  an  age  of  candles,  and  they  refused 
to  light  the  church,  and  Mr.  Romaine  often 
preached  in  a  crowded  church  by  the  light  of 
one  candle.  They  paid  him  the  merest  mini- 
mum which  he  could  demand,  or  which  they 
were  compelled  to  pay  ;.  sometimes  only  eigh- 
teen pounds  a  year.  But  he  was  a  hardy  man, 
and  he  lived  on  the  plainest  fare,  and  dressed 
in  homespun  cloth.  He  was  dragged  repeat- 
edly tjefore  courts  of  law,  but  he  was  as  difficult 
to  manage  here  as  in  the  church  ;  he  brought 
his  judges  to  the  statutes,  none  of  which  he 
had  broken.  Every  effort  was  made  to  expel 
him  from  the  Church,  but  he  would  not  be  cast 
out;  and  at  last  he  appears  to  have  settled  him- 
self, as  such  men  generally  do,  into  an  irresist- 
ible fact.  He  became  the  Rector  of  St.  Ann's, 
Blackfriars.  There  he  preached  those  sermons 
which  were  shaped  afterwards  into  the  favour- 
ite book  of  our  forefathers,  The  Life,  Walk,  and 
Triumph  of  Faith.     Born  in  17 14,  he  died  in 


174 


The  Great  Revival, 


1795.  His  last  years  were  clothed  with  a  pleas- 
ant serenity,  although,  perhaps,  some  have  de- 
tected in  his  character  marks  of  a  severity, 
probably  the  result    of  those  conflicts  which, 


ST.  ANN'S,    BLACKFRIARS. 

through  so  many  years,  he  had  with  such  re- 
markable consistency  sustained. 

And  surely  we  ought  to  mention,  in  this  right 
noble   band,   John  Newton ;  but  he  brings  us 


^t  (Hreat  ^cbibul. 


St.  Mary  Woolnoth. 


John  Newton. 


p.  170. 


A  Gallery  of  Revivalist  Porti^aits,        177 

near  to  the  time  when  the  passion  of  the  Re- 
vival was  settling  itself  into  organisation  and 
calm;  when  the  fury  of  persecution  was  ceas- 
ing; Methodism  was  becoming  even  a  respect- 
able and  acknowledged  fact.  John  Newton  was 
born  in  1725,  and  died  in  1807.  All  his  sympa- 
thies were  with  the  theology  and  the  activities 
of  the  revivalists  ;  but  before  he  most  singu- 
larly found  himself  the  Rector  of  St.  Mary 
Woolnoth,  and  St.  Mary  Woolchurch,  he  had 
led  a  life  which,  for  its  marvellous  variety  of 
incident,  reads  like  one  of  Defoe's  fictions. 

But  his  parlour  in  No.  8  Coleman  Street 
Buildings,  on  a  Friday  evening,  was  thronged 
by  all  the  dignitaries  of  the  evangelical  move- 
ment of  his  day.  As  he  said,  *'I  was  a  wild 
beast  on  the  coast  of  Africa,  but  the  Lord 
caught  me  and  tamed  me  ;  and  now  you  come 
to  see  me  as  people  go  to  see  the  lions  in  the 
Tower."  A  grand  old  man  was  John  Newton, 
the  young  sailor  transformed  into  the  saintly 
old  rector  ;  there  he  sat  with  few  traces  of  the 
parson  about  him,  in  his  blue  pea-jacket,  and 
his  black  neckerchief,  liking  still  to  retain 
something  of  the  freedom  of  his  old  blue  seas  ; 
full  of  quaint  wisdom,  which  never,  like  that  of 
his  friend  Berridge,  became  rude  or  droll ;  qui- 
etly sitting  there  and  meditating;  his  enthusi- 
astic life  apparently  having  subsided  into  still- 


1/8  The  Great  Revival. 

ness,  while  the  Hannah  Mores,  Wilberforces, 
Claudius  Buchanans,  and  John  Campbells,  went 
to  him  to  find  their  enthusiasm  confirmed. 
The  friend  of  Cowper,  who  surely  deserves  to 
be  called  the  Poet  Laureate  of  the  Revival — 
himself  the  author  of  some  of  the  sweetest  hymns 
we  still  sing ;  the  biographer  of  his  own  won- 
derful career,  and  of  the  life  of  his  friend  and 
brother-in-arms,  William  Grimshaw ;  one  of  the 
finest  of  our  religious  letter-writers  ;  with  ca- 
pacities within  him  for  almost  everything  he 
might  have  thought  it  wise  to  undertake,  he 
now  seems  to  us  appropriately  to  close  this 
small  gallery  we  have  attempted  to  present. 
When  the  spirit  of  the  Revival  was  either  set- 
tling into  firmness  and  consolidation,  or  strik- 
ing out  into  those  new  and  marvellous  fields  of 
labour — its  natural  outgrowth — which  another 
chapter  may  present  succinctly  to  the  eye,  John 
Newton,  by  his  great  experience  of  men,  his 
profound  faith,  his  steady  hand  and  clear  eye, 
became  the  wise  adviser  and  fosterer  of  schemes 
whose  gigantic  enterprise  would  certainly  have 
astonished  even  his  capacious  intelligence. 

In  closing  this  chapter  it  is  quite  worth  while 
to  notice  that,  various  as  were  the  characters 
of  these  men,  and  of  their  innumerable  com- 
rades, to  whom  we  do  homage,  although  we 
have  no  space  even  to  mention  their  names, 


A  Gallery  of  Revivalist  Portraits.        179 

their  strength  arose  from  the  certainty  and  the 
confidence  with  which  they  spoke  ;  there  was 
nothing  tentative  about  their  teaching.  That 
great  scholar,  Sir  William  Hamilton,  says  that 
*' assurance  is  the  punctum  saliens,  that  is  the 
strong  point  of  Luther's  system;"  so  it  was  with 
all  these  men,  "We  speak  that  we  do  know, 
and  testify  that  we  have  seen  ;"  it  was  the  full 
assurance  of  knowledge  ;  and  it  gave  them  au- 
thority over  the  men  with  whom  they  wrestled, 
whether  in  public  or  private.  Whitefield  and 
Wesley  alike,  and  all  their  followers,  had  strong 
faith  in  God.  They  were  believers  in  the  per- 
sonal regard  of  God  for  the  souls  of  men  ;  and 
every  idea  of  prayer  supposes  some  such  per- 
sonal regard,  whether  offered  by  the  highest  of 
high  Calvinists,  or  the  simplest  primitive  Meth- 
odist; the  whole  spirit  of  the  Revival  turned  on 
this ;  these  men,  as  they  strongly  believed, 
were  able,  by  the  strong  attractive  force  of  their 
own  nature,  to  compel  other  minds  to  their 
convictions.  Their  history  strongly  illustrates 
that  that  teaching  which  oscillates  to  and  fro 
in  a  pendulous  uncertainty  is  powerless  to  re- 
form character  or  influence  mind. 


i8o  The  Great  Revival. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

BLOSSOMS  IN  THE  WILDERNESS. 

The  preceding  chapters  have  shown  that  the 
Great  Revival  was  creating  over  the  wild  moral 
wastes  of  England  a  pure  and  spiritual  atmo- 
sphere, and  its  movements  and  organisations 
were  taking  root  in  every  direction.  Voltaire, 
and  that  pedantic  cluster  of  conceited  infidels, 
the  Bolingbrokes,  Middletons,  and  Mande- 
villes,  Chubbs,  Woolstons,  and  Collinses,  who 
prophesied  that  Christian  faith  was  fast  vanish- 
ing from  the  earth,  were  slightly  premature.  It 
is,  indeed,  interesting  to  notice  the  contrast  in 
this  period  between  England  and  the  .then  most 
unhappy  sister-kingdom  of  France  :  there,  in- 
deed, Christian  faith  did  seem  to  be  trodden 
underfoot  of  men.  While  a  great  silent,  hal- 
lowed revolution  was  going  on  in  one,  all 
things  were  preparing  for  a  tremendous  revolu- 
tion in  the  other.  It  was  just  about  the  time 
that  the  Revival  was  leavening  English  society 
that  Lord  Chesterfield  summed  up  what  he  had 
noticed  in  France,  in  the  following  words:  **  In 
short,  all  the  symptoms  which  I  have  ever  met 


Blossoms  in  the   Wilderness.  i8l 

with  in  history  previous  to  great  changes  and 
revolutions  in  government,  now  exist  and  daily- 
increase  in  France."  The  words  were  spoken 
several  years  before  that  terrible  Revolution 
came,  which  conducted  the  King,  the  Queen, 
and  almost  all  the  aristocracy,  respectability, 
and  lingering  piety  of  the  nation  to  the  scaf- 
fold. It  was  a  wonderful  compensation.  A  few 
years  before,  a  sovereign  had  cast  away  from 
his  nation,  and  from  around  his  throne,  all  the 
social  elements  which  could  guard  and  give 
dignity  to  it;  how  natural,  then,  that  the  whole 
canaille  of  the  kingdom  should  rush  upon  the 
throne  of  his  successor,  and  cast  it  and  its  occu- 
pant into  the  bonfire  of  the  Reign  of  Terror  ! 

In  Britain,  from  some  cause,  all  was  different. 
This  period  of  the  Revival  has  been  truly  called 
the  starting-point  of  the  modern  religious  his- 
tory of  that  land  ;  and,  somehow,  all  things 
were  singularly  combining  to  give  to  the  nation 
a  new-born  happiness,  to  create  new  facilities 
for  mental  growth  and  culture,  and  to  enlarge 
and  to  fill  their  cup  of  national  joy.  It  will  be 
noticed  that  these  things  did  not  descend  to 
the  nation  generally  from  the  highest  places  of 
the  land.  With  the  exception  of  the  sovereign, 
we  cannot  see  many  instances  of  a  lively  inter- 
est in  the  moral  well-being  of  the  people. 
Other  exceptions   there  were,   but  they  were 


1 82  The  Great  Revival. 

very  few.  From  the  people  themselves,  and 
from  the  causes  we  have  described,  originated 
and  spread  those  means  which,  amidst  the  wild 
agitations  of  revolution,  as  they  came  foaming 
over  the  Channel,  and  which  were  rather  aided 
than  repressed  by  the  unwisdom  of  many  of 
the  governments  and  magistrates,  calmed  and 
enlightened  the  public  mind,  and  secured  the 
order  of  society,  and  the  stability  of  the  throne. 
The  historians  of  Wesleyanism — we  will  say 
it  respectfully,  but  still  very  firmly — have  been 
too  uniformly  disposed  to  see  in  their  own  so- 
ciety the  centre  and  the  spring  of  all  those 
amazing  means  of  social  regeneration  to  which 
the  period  of  the  Revival  gave  birth.  Dr.  Abel 
Stevens  specially  seems  to  regard  Methodism 
and  Wesleyanism  as  conterminous.  It  would 
seem  from  him  that  the  work  of  the  printing- 
office,  the  book  or  the  tract  society,  schools 
and  missions,  and  the  various  means  of  social 
amelioration  or  redemption,  all  have  their 
origin  in  Wesleyanism.  We  may  give  the 
largest  honour  to  the  venerable  name  of  Wes- 
ley, and  accept  this  history  by  Dr.  Stevens  as 
the  best,  yet  as  an  American  he  did  not  fully 
know  what  had  been  done  by  others  not  in  the 
Connexion.  There  was  an  immense  field  of 
Methodism  which  did  not  fall  beneath  the  do- 
minion of  Wesley,  and  had  no  relation  to  the 


Blossoms  in  the  Wilderness,  183 

Wesleyan  Conference.  The  same  spirit  touched 
simultaneously  many  minds,  quite  separated  by 
ecclesiastical  and  social  relations,  but  all 
wrought  up  to  the  same  end.  These  pages 
have  been  greatly  devoted  to  reminiscences  of 
the  great  preachers,  and  illustrations  of  the 
preaching  power  of  the  Revival,  but  our  read- 
ers know  that  the  Revival  did  not  end  in 
preaching.  These  voices  stirred  the  slumber- 
ing mind  of  the  nation  like  a  thunder-peal,  but 
they  roused  to  work  and  practical  effort.  The 
great  characteristic  of  all  that  came  out  of  the 
movement  may  be  summed  up  in  the  often- 
quoted  expression,  "  A  single  eye  to  the  glory 
of  God."  As  one  of  the  clergymen  of  York- 
shire, earnest  and  active  in  those  times,  was 
wont  to  say,  *'I  do  love  those  one-eyed  Chris- 
tians." 

We  shair  have  occasion  to  mention  the  name 
of  Robert  Raikes,  and  that  name  reminds  us  not 
only  of  Gloucester,  but  of  Gloucestershire;  many  . 
circumstances  gave  to  that  most  charming  coun- 
ty a  conspicuous  place.  Lying  in  the  immediate 
neighbourhood  of  Bath,  it  attracted  the  atten- 
tion of  the  Countess  of  Huntingdon.  ^'  As  sure 
as  God  is  in  Gloucestershire,"  was  an  old  proverb, 
first  used  in  monastic  days,  then  applied  to  the 
Reformation  time,  when  Tyndale,  the  first 
translator  of  the  English  New  Testament,  had 


184  The  Great  Revival. 

his  home  in  the  lovely  village  of  North  Nibley; 
but  it  became  yet  more  true  when  Whitefield 
preached  to  the  immense  concourses  on  Stinch- 
combe  Hill;  when  Rodborough  and  Ebley,  and 
the  valley  of  the  Stroud  Water  were  lit  up  with 
Revival  beacons,  and  when  Rowland  Hill 
established  his  vicarage  at  Wotton-under- 
Edge;  then,  in  its  immediate  neighbourhood, 
arose  that  beautiful  Christian  worker,  the  close 
friend  of  George  Whitefield,  Cornelius  Winter; 
and  from  his  labours  came  forth  his  most 
eminent  pupil,  and  great  preacher,  William 
Jay. 

And  the  Revival  took  effect  on  distinct  circles 
which  certainly  seemed  outside  of  the  Methodist 
movement,  but  which  yet,  assuredly,  belonged 
to  it ;  the  Clapham  Sect,  for  instance.  *'The 
Clapham  Sect"  is  a  designation  originating  in 
the  facetious  and  satiric  brain  of  Sydney  Smith, 
than  whom  the  Revival  never  had  a  more 
unjust,  ungenerous,  or  ungracious  critic;  but  the 
pages  of  the  Edinburgh  Review,  in  which  the 
flippant  sting  of  speech  first  appeared,  years 
afterwards  consecrated  the  term  and  made  it 
historical  in  the  elegant  essay  of  Sir  James 
Stephen.  By  his  pen  the  sect,  with  all  its 
leaders,  acts,  and  consequences,  are  pleasantly 
described  in  the  Essays  on  Ecclesiastical 
Biography ;  and  surely  this  was  as  much  the 


Blossoms  in  the   Wilderness.  185 

result  of  the  Great  Revival  as  the  ''  evangelical 
succession"  which  calls  forth  the  exercise  in 
previous  pages  of  the  same  interesting  pen;  it 
was  all  a  natural  evangelical  succession,  that  of 
which  we  have  spoken  before,  as  enthusiasm 
for  humanity  growing  out  of  enthusiasm  for 
Divine  truth.  Men  who  have  become  fairly- 
impressed  by  a  sense  of  their  own  immortality 
and  its  redemption  in  Christ,  become  interested 
in  the  temporal  well-being  and  the  eternal 
welfare  of  others.  It  has  always  been  so,  and 
is  so  still,  that  men  who  have  not  a  sense  of 
man's  immortal  welfare  have  usually  cared  but 
little  about  his  temporal  interests.  Hospitals 
and  churches,  orphanages  and  missionary 
societies,  usually  grow  out  of  the  same  spiritual 
root. 

We  scarcely  need  ask  our  readers  to  accom- 
pany us  to  the  pleasant  little  village  of  Clap- 
ham,  and  its  sweet  sequestered  Common,  then 
so  far  removed  from  the  great  metropolis; 
surrounded  by  the  homes  of  wealthy  men, 
merchants,  statesmen,  eminent  preachers,  all 
of  them  infected  with  the  spirit  of  the  Revival, 
and  all  of  them  noteworthy  in  the  story  of  those 
means  which  were  to  shiver  the  chains  of  the 
slave,  to  carry  light  to  dark  heathen  minds, 
and  to  hand  out  the  Bible  to  English  villages 
and  far-off  nations.     We  have  been  desirous  of 


1 86  The  Great  Revival. 

conveying  the  impression  that  those  were  times 
of  a  singular  and  almost  simultaneous  spiritual 
upheaval;  it  was  as  if,  in  different  regions  of  the 
great  lake  of  humanity,  submerged  islands  sud- 
denly appeared  from  beneath  the  waves;  and  it 
is  not  too  much  to  say  that  all  those  various 
means  which  have  so  tended  to  beautify  and 
bless  the  world,  schemes  of  education,  schemes 
for  the  improvement  of  prison  discipline, 
schemes  of  missionary  enterprise  for  the  exten- 
sion of  Christian  influence  in  the  East  Indies, 
the  destruction  of  slavery  in  the  West  Indies, 
and  the  abolition  of  the  slave  trade  throughout 
the  British  Empire;  Bible  societies  and  Tract 
societies,  and,  in  fact,  the  whole  munificent 
machinery  and  organisation  of  our  day,  sprang 
forth  from  that  revival  of  the  last  century.  It 
seems  now  like  a  magnificent  burst  of  enthu- 
siasm ;  yet,  ultimately  it  was  based  upon  only 
two  or  three  great  elements  of  faith  :  the 
spiritual  world  was  an  intense  reality  ;  the  soul 
of  every  man,  woman,  and  child  on  the  face  of 
the  earth  had  an  endowment  of  immortality; 
they  were  precious  to  the  Redeemer,  they 
ought,  therefore,  to  be  precious  to  all  the  fol- 
lowers of  the  Redeemer.  Charged  with  these 
truths,  their  spirits  inflamed  to  a  holy  enthu- 
siasm by  them,  from  parlours  and  drawing- 
rooms,  from  the  lowly  homes  and  cottages  of 


^t  (Srtal  llebibal. 


John  Thoruton. 


p.  188. 


Blossoms  in  the  Wilderness,  189 

England,  all  these  new  professors  appeared  to 
be  in  search  of  occasions  for  doing  good;  the 
schemes  worked  themselves  through  all  the 
varieties  of  human  temperament  and  imperfec- 
tion; but,  looking  back,  it  must  surely  be 
admitted  that  they  achieved  glorious  results. 

If  the  reader,  impressed  by  veneration,  should 
make  a  pilgrimage  to  Clapham  Common,  and 
inquire  from  some  one  of  the  oldest  inhabitants 
which  was  the  house  in  which  John  Shore,  the 
great  Lord  Teignmouth,  the  first  President  of 
the  Bible  Society,  lived,  his  soul  within  him 
might  be  a  little  vexed  to  be  informed  that 
yonder  large  building  at  the  extreme  corner  of 
the  common,  the  great  Roman  Catholic  Re- 
demptionist  College,  is  the  house.  There,  were 
canvassed  and  brooded  over  a  number  of  the 
schemes  to  which  we  have  referred.  Thither 
from  his  own  house,  close  to  the  well-known 
"Plough" — its  site  now  covered  by  suburban 
shops — went  the  great  Zachary  Macaulay, 
sometimes  accompanied  by  his  son,  a  bright, 
intelligent  lad,  afterwards  known  as  Thomas 
Babington  Macaulay.  John  Shore  had  been 
Governor  of  India,  at  Calcutta.  On  the  com- 
mon resided  also,  for  some  time,  William  Wil- 
berforce.  These  were  the  great  statesmen  who 
were  desirous  of  organising  great  plans,  from 
which  the  consummating  prayer  of  David  in  the 


190  The  Great  Revival. 

72nd  Psalm  should  be  realised.  Then  there 
was  another  house  on  the  common,  the  mansion 
of  John  Thornton,  which  seemed  to  share  with 
that  of  Lord  Teignmouth  the  honours  of  these 
Divine  committees  of  ways  and  means.  Before 
the  establishment  of  the  Bible  Society,  Mr. 
Thornton  had  been  in  the  habit  of  spending 
two  thousand  pounds  a  year  in  the  distribution 
of  Bibles  and  Testaments — a  very  Bible  Society 
in  himself.  It  is,  perhaps,  not  too  much  to  say, 
there  was  scarcely  a  thought  which  had  for  its 
object  the  well-being  of  the  human  family  but 
it  found  its  representation  and  discussion  in 
those  palatial  abodes  on  Clapham  Common. 
There  were  Granville  Sharp  and  Thomas 
Clarkson;  thither,  how  often  went  cheery  old 
John  Newton,  to  whom,  first  of  all,  on  arriving 
in  London,  went  every  holy  wayfarer  from  the 
provinces,  wayfarers  who  soon  found  their 
entrance  beneath  his  protecting  wing,  and 
cheery  introduction  to  these  pleasant  circles. 
Beneath  the  incentives  of  his  animating  words, 
the  fervid  earnestness  of  Claudius  Buchanan 
found  its  pathway  of  power,  and  The  Star  of  the 
East — his  great  sermon  on  *'  Missions  to 
India," — was  first  seen  shining  over  Clapham 
Common;  and  it  was  the  same  genial  tongue 
which  encouraged  that  fine,  but  almost  forgot- 
ten man,  John  Campbell,  in  the  enterprise  of 


Blossoms  in  the  Wilderness.  191 

his  spirit,  to  pierce  into  the  deserts  of  Africa. 
We  may  notice  how  great  ideas  perpetuate 
themselves  into  generations,  when  we  remem- 
ber that  it  was  John  Campbell  who  first  took 
out  Robert  Moffat,  and  settled  him  down  in  the 
field  of  his  wonderful  labours. 

Sir  James  Stephen,  in  his  admirable  paper,  is 
far  from  exhausting  all  the  memories  of  that 
Clapham  Sect.  There  was  another  house,  not 
in  Clapham,  but  not  far  removed — Hatcham 
House,  as  we  remember  it — a  noble  mansion, 
standing  in  its  park,  opposite  where  the  old 
lane  turned  off  from  the  main  road  to  Peckham. 
There  lived  Joseph  Hardcastle — certainly  one 
of  the  Clapham  Sect — Wilberforce's  close  and 
intimate  friend,  a  munificent  merchant  prince, 
in  whose  offices  in  the  City  were  held  for  a  long 
time  all  the  earliest  committee  meetings  of  the 
Bible  Society,  the  Religious  Tract  Society,  and 
the  London  Missionary  Society,  and  from  whom 
appear  to  have  emanated  the  first  suggestions 
for  the  limitation  of  the  powers  of  the  East  In- 
dia Company  in  supporting  and  sanctioning,  by 
the  English  Government,.  Hindoo  infanticide 
and  idolatry.  Among  all  the  glorious  names 
of  the  Clapham  Sect,  not  one  shines  out  more 
beautifully  than  that  of  this  noble  Christian 
gentleman. 

Perhaps  a  natural  delicacy  withheld  Sir  James 


192  The  Great  Revival, 

Stephen  from  chronicling  the  story  of  his  own 
father,  Sir  George  Stephen  ;  and  there  was 
Thomas  Gisborne,  most  charming  of  English 
preachers  of  the  Church  of  England  evangeli- 
cal school ;  and  Sir  Robert  Grant,  whose  hymns 
are  still  among  the  sweetest  in  our  national 
psalmody.  But  we  can  do  no  more  than  thus 
say  that  it  was  from  hence  that  the  spirit  of  the 
Revival  rose  in  new  strength,  and  taking  to  it- 
self the  wings  of  the  morning,  spread  to  the  ut- 
termost parts  of  the  earth. 


The  Revival  becomes  Educational.       193 


CHAPTER   X. 

THE  REVIVAL  BECOMES  EDUCATIONAL. — 
ROBERT  RAIKES. 

In  the  year  1880  was  celebrated  in  England 
and  America  the  centenary  of  Sunday-schools. 
The  life  and  labours  of  Robert  Raikes,  whose 
name  has  long  been  familiar  as  ''  a  household 
word "  in  connection  with  such  institutions, 
were  reviewed,  and  fresh  interest  added  to  that 
early  work  for  the  young. 

Gloucestershire,  if  not  one  of  the  largest,  is 
certainly  one  of  the  fairest — as,  indeed,  its  name 
is  said  to  imply  :  from  Glaw,  an  old  British 
word  signifying  ''fair" — it  is  one  of  the  fairest, 
and  it  ought  to  be  one  of  the  most  famous, 
counties  of  England.  Many  are  its  distinguished 
worthies  :  John  de  Trevisa  was  Vicar  of  Berke- 
ley, in  Gloucestershire,  and  a  contemporary 
with  John  Wyclif,  and,  like  him,  he  had  a  strong 
aversion  to  the  practices  of  the  Church  of  Rome, 
and  an  earnest  desire  to  make  the  Scriptures 
known  to  his  parishioners  ;  and  in  Nibley,  in 
Gloucestershire,  was  born,  and  lived,  William 
Tyndale,  in  whose  noble  heart  the  great  idea 


194  The  Great  Revival. 

sprang  up  that  Christian  Englishmen  should 
read  the  New  Testament  in  their  own  mother- 
tongue,  and  who  said  to  a  celebrated  priest, 


ROBERT   RAIKES   AND  HIS  SCHOLARS. 

*'  If  God  spares  my  life,  I  will  take  care  that  a 
plough-boy  shall  know  more  of  the  Scriptures 
than  you  do."     The  story  of  the  great  transla- 


The  Revival  becomes  Educational.      195 

tor  and  martyr  is  most  interesting.  Glouces- 
tershire has  been  famous,  too,  for  its  contribu- 
tions to  the  noble  army  of  martyrs,  notably,  not 
only  James  Baynham,  but,  in  Gloucester,  its 
bishop,  John  Hooper,  was  in  1555  burnt  to 
death.  In  Berkeley  the  very  distinguished 
physician,  and  first  promulgator  of  the  doctrine 
of  vaccination.  Dr.  Edward  Jenner,  the  son  of 
the  vicar,  was  born  ;  and  from  the  Old  Bell,  in 
Gloucester,  went  forth  the  wonderful  preacher 
George  Whitefield,  to  arouse  the  sleeping 
Church  in  England  and  America  from  its  leth- 
argy. The  quaint  old  proverb  to  which  we 
have  already  alluded — "As  sure  as  God  is  in 
Gloucestershire  " — was  very  complimentary,  but 
not  very  correct ;  it  arose  from  the  amazing 
ecclesiastical  wealth  of  the  county,  which  was 
so  rich  that  it  attracted  the  notice  of  the  papal 
court,  arid  four  Italian  bishops  held  it  in  suc- 
cession for  fifty  years  ;  one  of  these,  Giulio  de 
Medici,  became  Pope  Clement  VII.,  succeeding 
Pope  Leo  X.  in  the  papacy  in  1523.  This  emi- 
nent ecclesiastical  fame  no  doubt  originated 
the  proverb ;  but  it  acquired  a  tone  of  reality 
and  truth  rather  from  the  martyrdom  of  its 
bishop  than  from  the  elevation  of  his  predeces- 
sor to  the  papal  tiara ;  rather  from  Tyndale, 
William  Sarton,  and  his  brother  weaver-mar- 
tyrs, than  from  its  costly  and  magnificent  en- 


196  The  Great  Revival, 

dowments  ;  from  Whitefield  and  Jenner  rather 
than  from  its  crowd  of  priests  and  friars. 

Thus  Gloucestershire  has  certainly  consider- 
able eminence  among  English  counties.  To 
other  distinguished  names  must  be  added  that 
of  Robert  Raikes,  who  must  ever  be  regarded 
as  the  founder  of  Sabbath-schools..  It  is  not 
intended  by  this  that  there  had  never  been  any 
attempts  made  to  gather  the  children  on  the 
Sabbath  for  some  kind  of  religious  instruction 
— although  such  attempts  were  very  few,  and  a 
diligent  search  has  probably  brought  them 
all  [?]  under  our  knowledge  ;  but  the  example 
and  the  influence  of  Raikes  gave  to  the  idea  the 
character  of  a  movement ;  it  stirred  the  whole 
country,  from  the  throne  itself,  the  King  and 
Queen,  the  bishops,  and  the  clergy  ;  all  classes 
of  ministers  and  laymen  became  interested  in 
what  was  evidently  an  easy  and  happy  method 
of  seizing  upon  the  multitudes  of  lost  children 
who  in  that  day  were  *'  perishing  for  lack  of 
knowledge." 

Mr.  Joseph  Stratford,  in  his  Biographical 
Sketches  of  the  Great  and  Good  Meit  in  Glou- 
cestershire, and  Mr.  Alfred  Gregory,  in  his  Life 
of  Robert  Raikes — to  which  works  we  must 
confess  our  obligation  for  much  of  the  informa- 
tion contained  in  this  chapter — have  both  done 
honour  to  the  several  humbler  and  more  obscure 


The  Revival  becomes  Educational.       197 

labourers  whose  hearts  were  moved  to  attempt 
the  work  to  which  Raikes  gave  a  national  im- 
portance, and  which  from  his  hands,  and  from 
his  time,  became  henceforth  a  perpetual  insti- 
tution in  the  Church  work  of  every  denomina- 
tion of  Christian  believers  and  labourers.  The 
Rev.  Joseph  AUeine,  the  author  of  The  Alarm 
to  the  Unconvertedy  an  eminent  Nonconformist 
minister  of  Taunton,  adopted  the  plan  of 
gathering  the  young  people  together  for  in- 
struction on  the  Lord's  day.  Even  in  Glou- 
cestershire, before  Raikes  was  born,  in  the  village 
of  Flaxley,  on  the  borders  of  the  Forest  of 
Dean — Flaxley,  of  which  the  poet  Bloomfield 
sings  : 

"  'Mid  depths  of  shade  gay  sunbeams  broke 
Through  noble  Flaxley 's  bowers  of  oak  ; 
Where  many  a  cottage,  trim  and  gay, 
Whispered  delight  through  all  the  way." 

in  the  old  Cistercian  Abbey,  Mrs.  Catharine 
Boevey,  the  lady  of  the  abbey,  had  one  of  the 
earliest  and  pleasantest  Sabbath-schools.  Her 
monument  in  Flaxley  Church,  erected  after 
her  death  in  1726,  records  her  "  clothing  and 
feeding  her  indigent  neighbours,  and  teaching 
their  children,  some  of  whom  she  entertained 
at  her  house,  and  examined  them  herself"  Six 
of  the  poor  children,  it  is  elsewhere  stated, 
**  by  turns  dined  at  her  residence  on  Sundays, 


1 98  The  Great  Revival. 

and   were    afterwards    heard    say    the    Cate- 
chism." 

We  read  of  a  humbler  labourer,  realising', 
perhaps,  more  the  idea  of  a  Sabbath-school 
teacher,  in  Bolton,  in  Lancashire,  James  Hey, 
or  ''  Old  Jemmy  o'  th'  Hey."  Old  Jemmy,  Mr. 
Gregory  tells  us,  employed  the  working  days 
of  the  week  in  winding  bobbins  for  weavers, 
and  on  Sundays  he  taught  the  boys  and  girls 
of  the  neighbourhood  to  read.  His  school 
assembled  twice  each  Sunday,  in  the  cottage  of 
a  neighbour,  and  the  time  of  commencing  was 
announced,  not  by  the  ringing  of  a  bell,  but  by 
an  excellent  substitute,  an  old  brass  postle  and 
mortar.  After  a  while,  Mr.  Adam  Compton,  a 
paper  manufacturer  in  the  neighbourhood, 
began  to  supply  Jemmy  with  books,  and  sub- 
scriptions in  money  were  given  him  ;  he  was 
thus  enabled  to  form  three  branch  establish- 
ments, the  teachers  of  which  were  paid  one 
shilling  each  Sunday  for  their  services.  Be- 
sides these  there  are  several  other  instances:  in 
1763  the  Rev.  Theophilus  Lindsey  established 
something  like  a  Sunday-school  at  Catterick,  in 
Yorkshire;  at  High  Wycombe,  in  1769,  Miss 
Hannah  Ball,  a  young  Methodist  lady,  formed 
a  Sunday-school  in  her  town  ;  and  at  Maccles- 
field that  admirable  and  excellent  man,  the 
Rev.  David  Simpson,  originated  a  similar  plan 


The  Revival  becomes  Educational.      199 

of  usefulness;  and,  contemporary  with  Mr. 
Raikes,  in  the  old  Whitefield  Tabernacle,  at 
Dursley,  in  Gloucestershire,  we  find  Mr.  William 
King,  a  woollen  card-maker,  attempting  the 
work  of  teaching  on  a  Sunday,  and  coming  into 
Gloucester  to  take  counsel  with  Mr.  Raikes  as 
to  the  best  way  of  carrying  it  forward.  Such, 
scattered  over  the  face  of  the  country,  at  great 
distances,  and  in  no  way  representing  a  general 
plan  of  useful  labour,  were  the  hints  and  efforts 
before  the  idea  took  what  may  be  called  an 
apostolic  shape  in  the  person  of  Robert  Raikes. 
Notwithstanding  the  instances  we  have 
given,  .Mr.  Raikes  must  really  be  regarded 
as  the  founder  of  Sunday-schools  as  an  extend- 
ed organisation.  With  him  they  became  more 
than  a  notion,  or  a  mere  piece  of  local  effort ; 
and  his  position  and  profession,  and  the  high 
respect  in  which  he  was  held  in  the  city  in 
which  he  lived,  all  alike  enabled  him  to  give 
publicity  to  the  plan:  and  before  he  commenced 
this  movement,  he  was  known  as  a  philan- 
thropist; indeed,  John  Howard  himself  bears 
something  like  the  same  relation  to  prison 
philanthropy  which  Raikes  bears  to  Sunday- 
schools.  No  one  doubts  that  Howard  was  the 
great  apostle  of  prisons;  but  it  seems  that  be- 
fore he  commenced  his  great  prison  crusade, 
Raikes  had  laboured  diligently  to  reform  the 


200  The  Great  Revival, 

Gloucester  gaol.  The  condition  of  the  prison- 
ers was  most  pitiable,  and  Raikes,  nearly 
twenty  years  before  he  commenced  the  Sun- 
day-school system,  had  been  working  among 
them,  attempting  their  material,  moral,  and 
spiritual  improvement,  by  which  he  had  earned 
for  himself  the  designation  of  the  **  Teacher  of 
the  Poor."  Howard  visited  Raikes  in  Glouces- 
ter, and  bears  his  testimony  to  the  blessedness 
and  benevolence  of  his  labours  in  the  prison 
there;  and  the  gaol  appears  not  unnaturally  to 
have  suggested  the  idea  of  the  Sunday-school 
to  the  benevolent-hearted  man.  It  was  a 
dreadful  state  of  society.  Some  idea  may  be 
formed  of  it  from  a  paragraph  in  the  Gloucester 
Journal  for  June,  1783,  the  paper  of  which 
Raikes  was  the  editor  and  proprietor:  it  is  men- 
tioned that  no  less  than  sixty-six  persons  were 
committed  to  the  Castle  in  one  week,  and  Mr. 
Raikes  adds,  *'  The  prison  is  already  so  full 
that  all  the  gaoler's  stock  of  fetters  is  occupied, 
and  the  smiths  are  hard  at  work  casting  new 
ones."  He  goes  on  to  say:  *'The  people  sent 
in  are  neither  disappointed  soldiers  nor  sailors, 
but  chiefly  frequenters  of  ale-houses  and  skittle- 
alleys.  Then,  in  another  paragraph,  he  goes 
on  to  remark,  ''  The  ships  about  to  sail  for 
Botany  Bay  will  carry  about  one  thousand 
miserable  creatures,  who  might  have  lived  per- 


The  Revival  becomes  Educational,      201 

fectlyhappy  in  this  country  had  they  been  early 
taught  good  principles,  and  to  avoid  the  dan- 
ger of  associating  with  those  who  make  sobrie- 
ty and  industry  the  objects  of  their  ridicule." 

From  sentences  like  these  it  is  easy  to  see  the 
direction  in  which  the  mind  of  the  good  man 
was  moving,  before  he  commenced  the  work 
which  has  given  such  a  happy  and  abiding  per- 
petuity to  his  name.  He  gathered  the  chil- 
dren; the  streets  were  full  of  noise  and  disturb- 
ances every  Sunday.  In  a  little  while,  says  the 
Rev.  Dr.  Glass,  Mr.  Raikes  found  himself  sur- 
rounded by  such  a  set  of  little  ragamuffins  as 
would  have  disgusted  other  men  less  zealous  to 
do  good,  and  less  earnest  to  disseminate  com- 
fort, exhortation,  and  benefit  to  all  around  him, 
than  the  founder  of  Sunday-schools.  He  pre- 
vented their  running  about  in  wild  disorder 
through  the  streets.  By  and  by,  he  arranged 
that  a  number  of  them  should  meet  him  at 
seven  o'clock  on  the  Sunday  morning  in  the 
cathedral  close,  when  he  and  they  all  went 
into  the  cathedral  together  to  an  early  service. 
The  increase  of  the  numbers  was  rapid ;  Mr. 
Raikes  was  looked  up  to  as  the  commander-in- 
chief  of  this  ragged  regiment.  It  is  testified 
that  a  change  took  place  and  passed  over  the 
streets  of  the  old  Gloucester  city  on  the  Sun- 
day.    A  glance  at  the  features  of  Mr.  Raikes 


202  The  Great  Revival. 

will  assure  the  reader  that  he  was  an  amiable 
and  gentle  man,  but  that  by  no  means  implies 
always  a  weak  one.  He  appears  to  have  had 
plenty  of  strength,  self-possession,  and  knowl- 
edge of  the  world.  He  also  belonged  to,  and 
moved  in,  good  society;  and  this  is  not  without 
its  influence.  As  he  told  the  King,  in  the 
course  of  a  long  interview,  when  the  King  and 
Queen  sent  for  him  to  Windsor,  to  talk  over 
his  system  with  him,  in  order  that  they  might, 
in  some  sense,  be  his  disciples,  and  adopt  and 
recommend  his  plan :  it  was  *'  botanising  in 
human  nature."  ''All  that  I  require,"  said 
Raikes,  to  the  parents  of  the  children,  "  are 
clean  hands,  clean  faces,  and  their  hair 
combed."  To  many  who  were  barefooted, 
after  they  had  shown  some  regularity  of  attend- 
ance, he  gave  shoes,  and  others  he  clothed. 
Yes,  it  was  ''botanising  in  human  nature;"  and 
very  many  anecdotes  show  what  flowers  sprang 
up  out  of  the  black  soil  in  the  path  of  the  good 
man. 

All  the  stories  told  of  Raikes  show  that  the 
law  of  kindness  was  usually  on  his  lips.  A 
sulky,  stubborn  girl  had  resisted  all  reproofs 
and  correction,  and  had  refused  to  ask  forgive- 
ness of  her  mother.  In  the  presence  of  the 
mother,  Raikes  said  to  the  girl,  "Well,  if  you 
have  no  regard  for  yourself,  I  have  much  for 


The  Revival  becomes  Educational.      203 

you.  You  will  be  ruined  and  lost  if  you  do  not 
become  a  good  girl;  and  if  you  will  not  humble 
yourself,  I  must  humble  myself  on  your  behalf, 
and  make  a  beginning  for  you;"  and  then,  with 
great  solemnity,  he  entreated  the  mother  to 
forgive  the  girl,  using  such  words  that  he  over- 
came the  girl's  pride.  The  stubborn  creature 
actually  fell  on  her  knees,  and  begged  her 
mother's  forgiveness,  and  never  gave  Mr. 
Raikes  or  her  mother  trouble  afterwards.  It  is 
a  very  simple  anecdote;  but  it  shows  the  Divine 
spirit  in  the  method  of  the  man  ;  and  the  more 
closely  we  come  into  a  personal  knowledge  of 
his  character,  the  more  admirable  and  lovable 
it  seems.  Thus  literally  true  and  beautiful  are 
the  words  of  the  hymn  : 

"Like  a  lone  husbandman,  forlorn, 
The  man  of  Gloucester  went, 
Bearing  his  seeds  of  precious  com  ; 
And  God  the  blessing  sent. 

Now,  watered  long  by  faith  and  prayer, 

From  year  to  year  it  grows. 
Till  heath,  and  hill,  and  desert  bare, 

Do  blossom  as  the  rose." 

Mr.  Raikes  was  a  Churchman  ;  he  v/as  so 
happy  as  to  have,  near  to  his  own  parish  of  St. 
Mary-le-Crypt,  in  Gloucester,  an  intimate 
friend,  the  Rector  of  St.  Aldate's — a  neigh- 
bouring parish  in  the    same    city — the    Rev. 


204  The  Great  Revival. 

Thomas  Stock,  whose  monument  in  the 
church  truly  testifies  that  '*  to  him,  in  conjunc- 
tion with  Robert  Raikes,  Esquire,  is  justly  at- 
tributed the  honour  of  having  planned  and  insti- 
tuted the  first  Sunday-school  in  the  kingdom." 
Mr.  Stock  was  but  a  young  man  in  1780,  for  he 
died  in  1803,  then  only  fifty-four  years  of  age; 
he  must  have  been,  at  the  time  of  the  first  in- 
stitution of  Sunday-schools,  a  young  man  of 
fine  and  tender  instincts.  He  appears,  simul- 
taneously with  Mr.  Raikes's  movement,  to  have 
formed  a  Sunday-school  in  his  own  parish, 
taking  upon  himself  the  superintendence  of  it, 
and  the  responsibility  of  such  expenses  as  it  in- 
volved. But  Mr.  Stock  says,  in  a  letter  written 
in  1788,  '*  The  progress  of  the  institution 
through  the  kingdom  is  justly  attributed  to  the 
constant  representations  which  Mr.  Raikes 
made  in  his  own  paper  of  the  benefits  which  he 
saw  would  probably  arise  from  it."  At  the  time 
Mr.  Raikes  began  the  work,  he  was  about 
forty-four  years  of  age;  it  was  a  great  thing  in 
that  day  to  possess  a  respectable  journal,  a 
newspaper  of  acknowledged  character  and  in- 
fluence; to  this,  very  likely,  we  owe  it,  in  some 
considerable  measure,  that  the  work  in  Glouces- 
ter became  extensively  known  and  spread,  and 
expanded  into  a  great  movement.  But  he  does 
not   appear  to  have  used  the   columns  of  his 


^bc  6rfal  JScbtbal. 


Robert  Raikes. 


p.  205 


The  Revival  becomes  Educational.      207 

newspaper  for  the  purpose  of  calling  attention 
to  the  usefulness  and  desirability  of  the  work 
until  after  it  had  been  in  operation  about  three 
years ;  in  1783  and  1784,  very  modestly  he 
commends  the  system  to  general  adoption. 

It  is  remarkable  that  in  the  course  of  two  or 
three   years,    several   bishops — the    Bishop   of 
Gloucester,  in  the   cathedral,  the    Bishops  of 
Chester  and  Salisbury,  in  their  charges  to  the 
clergy  of  their  dioceses — strongly  commended 
the  plan.     All  orders  of  mind  poured  around 
the  movement  their  commendation;  even  Adam 
Smith,  whom  no  one  will  think  likely  to  have 
fallen    into    exaggerated     expressions    where 
Christian  activity  is  concerned,  said,  ''  No  plan 
has  promised  to  effect  a  change  of  manners  with 
equal  ease  and  simplicity,  since  the  days  of  the 
apostles."     The  poet  Cowper  declared  that  he 
knew  of  no  nobler  means  by  which  a  reforma- 
tion  of  the   lower  classes   could  be   effected. 
Some   attempts  have  been  made  to  claim  for 
John  Wesley  the  honour  of  inaugurating  the 
Sunday-school    system;    considering    the    in- 
tensely practical  character  of  that  venerated 
man,  and  how  much  he  was  in  advance  of  his 
times  in  most  of  his  activities,  it  is  a  wonder 
that  he  did  not;  but  his  venerable  memory  has 
honours,  certainly,  in  all  sufficiency.     He  wrote 
his  first   commendation  of  Sunday-schools  in 


2o8  The  Great  Revival. 

the  Arminian  Magazine  of  1784.  He  says, 
"  I  find  these  schools  spring  up  wherever  I 
go ;  perhaps  God  may  have  a  deeper  end 
therein  than  men  are  aware  of;  who  knows  but 
that  some  of  these  schools  may  become  nurseries 
for  Christians  ?"  Prophetic  as  these  words  are, 
this  is  fainter  and  tardier  praise  than  we  should 
have  expected  from  him  ;  but  in  1787  he  writes 
more  warmly,  expresses  his  belief  that  these 
schools  will  be  one  great  means  of  reviving 
religion  throughout  the  kingdom,  and  expresses 
**  wonder  that  Satan  has  not  sent  out  some  able 
champion  against  them."  In  1788  he  says:  "I 
verily  think  that  these  schools  are  one  of  the 
noblest  specimens  of  charity  which  have  been 
set  on  foot  in  England  since  the  days  of  William 
the  Conqueror." 

Some  estimate  may  be  formed  of  the  rapidity 
with  which  the  movement  spread,  when  we 
find  that  in  this  year,  1787,  the  number  of 
children  taught  in  Sunday-schools  in  Man- 
chester alone,  on  the  testimony  of  the  very 
eminent  John  Nichols,  the  great  printer  and 
anecdotist,  was  no  fewer  than  five  thousand. 
It  was  in  this  year  also,  1787,  that  Mr.  Raikes 
was  visiting  some  relatives  in  the  neighbour- 
hood of  Windsor.  He  must  have  attained  to 
the  dignity  of  a  celebrity  ;  nor  is  this  wonder- 
ful, when  we  remember  the  universal  acceptance 


The  Revival  becomes  EducatioiiaL       209 

with  which  his  great  idea  of  Sunday-schools 
had  been  honoured.  The  Queen  invited  him  to 
visit  her,  and  inquired  of  him,  he  says,  *'  by 
what  accident  a  thought  which  promised  so 
much  benefit  to  the  lower  order  of  people  as 
the  institution  of  Sunday-schools,  was  suggested 
to  his  mind  ?"  The  visit  was  a  long  one  ;  he 
spent  two  hours  with  the  Queen — the  King 
also,  we  believe,  being  present  most  of  the 
time — not  so  much  in  expounding  the  system, 
for  that  was  simple  enough,  but  they  were 
curious  as  to  what  he  had  observed  in  the 
change  and  improvement  of  the  characters 
among  whom  he  worked ;  and  we  believe  that 
it  was  then  he  told  the  King,  in  the  words  we 
have  already  quoted,  that  he  regarded  his  work 
as  a  kind  of  "  botanising  in  human  nature;"  this 
was  a  favourite  phrase  of  his  in  describing  the 
work.  The  result  of  this  visit  was,  that  the 
Queen  established  a  Sunday-school  in  Windsor, 
and  also  a  school  of  industry  at  Brentford, 
which  the  King  and  Queen  occasionally  visited. 
It  may  be  taken  as  an  illustration  of  the  native 
modesty  of  Mr.  Raikes's  own  character  that  he 
never  referred  in  his  paper  to  this  distinguished 
notice  of  royalty. 

Do  our  readers  know  anything  of  Mrs.  Sarah 
Trimmer  "i  A  hundred  years  ago,  there  was, 
probably,  not  a  better-known   woman  in  Eng- 


210  lltc  Great  Revival. 

land;  and  although  her  works  have  long  ceased 
to  exercise  any  influence,  we  suppose  none,  in 
her  time,  were  more  eminently  useful.  Pious, 
devoted,  earnestly  evangelical,  if  we  speak  of 
her  as  a  kind  of  lesser  Hannah  More,  the  remark 
must  apply  to  her  intellectual  character  rather 
than  to  her  reputation  or  her  usefulness.  Al- 
most as  soon  as  the  Sunday-school  idea  was 
announced,  she  stepped  forward  as  its  most  able 
and  intrepid  advocate;  her  Economy  of  Charity 
exercised  a  large  influence,  and  she  published  a 
number  of  books,  which,  at  that  time,  were  ad- 
mirably suited  to  the  level  of  the  capacity 
which  the  Sunday-school  teacher  desired  to 
reach;  she  was  also  a  great  favourite  with  the 
King  and  Queen,  and  appears  to  have  visited 
them  on  the  easy  terms  of  friendship.  The  in- 
tense interest  she  felt  in  Sunday-schools  is 
manifest  in  innumerable  pages  of  the  two  vol- 
umes which  record  her  life  ;  certainly,  she  was 
often  at  the  ear  of  the  royal  pair,  to  whisper 
any  good  and  pleasant  thing  connected  with  the 
progress  of  her  favourite  thought.  She  repeat- 
edly expresses  her  obligation  to  Mr.  Raikes  ; 
but  her  biographer  only  expresses  the  simple 
truth  when  he  says :  ''  To  Mr.  Raikes,  of 
Gloucester,  the  nation  is,  in  the  first  place,  in- 
debted for  the  happy  idea  of  collecting  the 
children  of  the  poor  together  on  the  Sabbath, 


The  Revival  becomes  Educational.       211 

and  giving  them  instruction  suited  to  the  sa- 
credness  of  the  day  ;  but,  perhaps,  no  pubHca- 
tion  on  this  subject  was  of  more  utiHty  than  the 
Economy  of  CJiarity.  The  influence  of  the 
work  was  very  visible  when  it  first  made  its  ap- 
pearance, and  proved  a  source  of  unspeakable 
gratification  to  the  author." 

It  is  not  consistent  with  the  aim  of  this  book 
to  enter  at  greater  length  into  the  life  of  Robert 
Raikes  ;  we  have  said  sufficient  to  show  that 
the  term  which  has  been  applied  to  him  of 
"founder  of  Sunday-schools,"  is  not  misapplied. 
He  was  a  simple  and  good  man,  on  whose  heart, 
as  into  a  fruitful  soil,  an  idea  fell,  and  it  be- 
came a  realised  conviction.  Look  at  his  por- 
trait, and  instantly  there  comes  to  your  mind 
Cowper's  well-known  description  of  one  of  his 
friends, 

"  An  honest  man,  close-buttoned  to  the  chin, 
Broadcloth  without,  and  a  warm  heart  within." 

No  words  can  better  describe  him — not  a  tint 
of  fanaticism  seems  to  shade  his  character  ;  he 
had  a  warm  enthusiasm  for  ends  and  aims 
which  commended  themselves  to  his  judgment. 
It  is  pleasant  to  know  that,  as  he  lived  when 
the  agitation  for  the  abolition  of  the  slave  trade 
was  commencing,  he  gave  to  the  movement  his 
hearty  blessings  and  best  wishes.     At  sixty- 


212  The  Great  Revival, 

seven  years  of  age  he  retired  from  business ;  no 
doubt  a  very  well-to-do  man,  for  he  was  the 
owner  of  two  freehold  estates  near  Gloucester, 
and  he  received  an  annuity  of  three  hundred 
pounds  from  the  Gloucester  Journal.  He  died 
at  his  house  in  Bell  Lane,  in  the  city  of  Glou- 
cester, where  he  had  taken  up  his  residence 
when  he  retired  from  active  life  ;  he  died  sud- 
denly, in  his  seventy-sixth  year,  in  i8ii.  Then 
the  family  vault  in  St.  Mary-le-Crypt,  which 
sixty  years  before  had  received  his  father's 
ashes,  received  the  body  of  the  gentle  philan- 
thropist. He  had  kept  up  his  Sunday-school 
work  and  interest  to  the  close;  and  he  left  in- 
structions that  his  Sunday-school  children 
should  be  invited  to  follow  him  to  the  grave, 
and  that  each  of  them  should  receive  a  shilling 
and  a  plum  cake.  On  the  tablet  over  the  place 
where  he  sleeps  an  appropriate  verse  of  Scrip- 
ture well  describes  him  :  ''  When  the  ear  heard 
me,  then  it  blessed  me  ;  and  when  the  eye  saw 
me,  it  gave  witness  to  me  :  because  I  delivered 
the  poor  that  cried,  and  the  fatherless,  and 
him  that  had  none  to  help  him.  The  blessing 
of  him  that  was  ready  to  perish  came  upon 
me  :  and  I  caused  the  widow's  heart  to  sing  for 
joy." 

It    seems    very    questionable    whether    the 
sHghtest  shade  can  cross  the  memory  of  this 


The  Revival  becomes  Educational.       213 

plain,  simply  useful,  and  unostentatious  man. 
And  it  ought  to  be  said  that  Anne  Raikes,  who 
rests  in  the  same  grave,  appears  to  have  been 
every  way  the  worthy  companion  of  her  hus- 
band. She  was  the  daughter  of  Thomas  Trigg, 
Esq.,  of  Newnham,  in  Gloucestershire  ;  the 
sister  of  Sir  Thomas  Trigg  and  Admiral  John 


RAIKES'S   HOUSE,    GLOUCESTER. 


Trigg.  They  were  married  in  1767.  She  shared 
in  all  her  husband's  large  and  charitable  inten- 
tions, and  when  he  died  he  left  the  whole  of  his 
property  to  her.  She  survived  him  seventeen 
years,  and  died  in  1828,  at  the  age  of  eighty- 
five. 

The  visitor  to  Gloucester  will  be  surely  struck 


214  The  Great  Revival. 

by  a  quaint  old  house  in  Southgate  Street — 
still  standing  almost  unaltered,  save  that  the 
basement  is  now  divided  into  two  shops.  A 
few  years  since  the  old  oak  timbers  were 
braced,  stained,  and  varnished.  It  is  a  fine 
specimen  of  the  better  class  of  English  resi- 
dences of  a  hundred  and  fifty  years  since,  and  is 
still  remarkable  in  the  old  city,  owing  very 
much  to  the  good  taste  which  governed  their 
renovation.  This  was  the  printing-office  of 
Robert  Raikes,  a  notice  in  the  Gloucester 
Journal^  dated  August  19,  1758,  announcing  his 
removal  from  Blackfriars  Square  to  this  house  in 
Southgate  Street.  The  house  now  is  in  the 
occupation  of  Mrs.  Watson.  The  house  where 
Raikes  lived  and  died  is  nearly  opposite.  It 
will  not  be  difficult  for  the  spectator  to  realise 
the  pleasant  image  of  the  old  gentleman, 
dressed,  after  the  fashion  of  the  day,  in  his  blue 
coat  with  gold  buttons,  buff  waistcoat,  drab 
kerseymere  breeches,  white  stockings,  and  low 
shoes,  passing  beneath  those  ancient  gables, 
and  engaged  in  those  various  public  and  private 
duties  which  we  have  attempted  to  record.  A 
century  has  passed  away  since  then,  and  the 
simple  lessons  the  philanthropist  attempted  to 
impart  to  the  young  waifs  and  strays  he  gath- 
ered about  him  have  expanded  into  more  com- 
prehensive  departments   of  knowledge.     The 


The  Revival  becomes  Educational.      215 

originator  of  Sunday-schools  would  be  aston- 
ished were  he  to  step  into  almost  any  of  those 
which  have  branched  out  from  his  leading  idea. 
It  is  still  expanding;  it  is  one  of  the  most  real 
and  intense  activities  of  the  Universal  Church; 
but  among  the  immense  crowds  of  those  who, 
in  England  and  America,  are  conducting  Sun- 
day-school classes,  it  is,  perhaps,  not  too  much 
to  say,  that  in  not  one  is  there  a  more  simple 
and  earnest  desire  to  do  good  than  that  which 
illuminated  the  life,  and  lends  a  sweet  and 
charming  interest  to  the  memory,  of  Robert 
Raikes. 


2i6  The  Great  Revival, 


CHAPTER  XL 

THE  ROMANTIC   STORY    OF   SILAS   TOLD. 

Dr.  Abel  Stevens,  in  his  History  of  Meth- 
odism^ says,  *'  I  congratulate  myself  on  the 
opportunity  of  reviving  the  memory  of  Silas 
Told  ;"  and  speaks  of  the  little  biography  in 
which  Silas  himself  records  his  adventures  as 
"  a  record  told  with  frank  and  affecting  simplic- 
ity, in  a  style  of  terse  and  flowing  English  De- 
foe might  have  envied." 

Such  a  testimony  is  well  calculated  to  excite 
the  curiosity  of  an  interested  reader,  especially 
as  the  two  or  three  incidents  mentioned  only 
serve  to  whet  the  appetite  for  more  of  the  like 
description.  The  little  volume  to  which  he  re- 
fers has  been  for  some  years  in  the  possession 
of  the  author  of  this  volume.  It  is  indeed  an 
astonishing  book;  its  alleged  likeness  to  Defoe's 
charmingly  various  style  of  recital  of  adven- 
tures by  sea  and  by  land  is  no  exaggeration, 
whilst  as  a  piece  of  real  biography  it  may 
claim,  and  quite  sustain,  a  place  side  by  side 
with  the  romantic  and  adventurous  career  of 
John  Newton  ;   but  the  wild  wonderfulness  of 


Story  of  Silas   Told.  21/ 

the  story  of  Silas  seems  to  leave  Newton's  in 
the  shade.  Like  Newton,  Told  was  also  a  seer 
of  visions  and  a  dreamer  of  dreams,  and  a  be- 
liever in  special  providences;  and  well  might  he 
believe  in  such  who  was  led  certainly  along  as 
singular  a  path  as  any  mortal  could  tread.  The 
only  other  memorial  besides  his  own  which  has, 
we  believe,  been  penned  of  him — a  brief  recapit- 
ulation— well  describes  him  as  honest,  simple, 
and  tender.  Silas  Told  accompanied,  in  that 
awful  day,  numbers  of  persons  to  the  gallows, 
and  attempted  to  console  sufferers  and  victims 
in  circumstances  of  most  harrowing  and  tragic 
solemnity  :  he  certainly  furnished  comfortable 
help  and  light  when  no  others  were  willing  or 
able  to  sympathise  or  to  help.  John  Wesley 
loved  him,  and  when  Silas  died  he  buried  him, 
and  says  of  him  in  his  Journal:  "  On  the  20th 
of  December,  1778,  I  buried  what  was  mortal  of 
honest  Silas  Told.  For  many  years  he  attend- 
ed the  malefactors  in  Newgate  without  fee  or 
reward;  and  I  suppose  no  man,  for  this  hundred 
years,  has  been  so  successful  in  that  melancholy 
office.  God  had  given  him  peculiar  talents  for 
it,  and  he  had  amazing  success  therein  ;  the 
greatest  part  of  those  whom  he  attended  died 
in  peace,  and  many  of  them  in  the  triumph  of 
faith."     Such  was  Silas  Told. 

But  before  we   come  to  those  characteristic 


2i8  The  Great  Revival. 

circumstances  to  which  Wesley  refers,  we  must 
follow  him  through  some  of  the  wild  scenes  of 
his  sailor  life.  He  was  born  in  Bristol  in  i/i  i ;  his 
parents  were  respectable  and  creditable  peo- 
ple, but  of  somewhat  faded  families.  His  grand- 
father had  been  an  eminent  physician  in  Bun- 
hill  Row,  London;  his  mother  was  from  Exe- 
ter.    *     *     * 

Silas  was  educated  in  the  noble  foundation 
school  of  Edward  Colston  in  Bristol.  The  life 
of  this  excellent  philanthropist  was  so  remark- 
able, and  in  many  particulars  so  like  his  own, 
that  we  cannot  wonder  that  he  stops  for  some 
pages  in  his  early  story  to  recite  some  of  the 
remarkable  phenomena  in  Colston's  life.  Silas's 
childhood  was  singular,  and  the  stories  he  tells 
are  especially  noticeable,  because  in  after-life 
the  turn  of  his  character  seems  to  have  been 
especially  real  and  practical.  Thus  he  tells 
how,  when  a  child,  wandering  with  his  sister  in 
the  King's  Wood,  near  Bristol,  they  lost  their 
way,  and  were  filled  with  the  utmost  conster- 
nation, when  suddenly,  although  no  house  was 
in  view,  nor,  as  they  thought,  near,  a  dog  came 
up  behind  them,  and  drove  them  clear  out  of 
the  wood  into  a  path  with  which  they  were  ac- 
quainted; especially  it  was  remarkable  that  the 
dog  never  barked  at  them,  but  when  they 
looked  round  about  for  the  doe  he  was  nowhere 


Story  of  Silas   Told.  219 

to  be  seen.  Careless  children  out  for  their  own 
pleasure,  they  sauntered  on  their  way  again, 
and  again  lost  their  way  in  the  wood — were 
again  bewildered,  and  in  greater  perplexity 
than  before,  when,  on  a  sudden  looking  up,  they 
saw  the  same  dog  making  towards  them  ;  they 
ran  from  him  in  fright,  but  he  followed  them, 
drove  them  out  of  the  labyrinths,  and  did  not 
leave  them  until  they  could  not  possibly  lose 
their  way  again.  Simple  Silas  says,  '^  I  then 
turned  about  to  look  for  the  dog,  but  saw  no 
more  of  him,  although  we  were  now  upon  an 
open  common.  This  was  the  Lord's  doings, 
and  marvellous  in  our  eyes." 

When  he  was  twelve  years  of  age,  he  appears 
to  have  been  quite  singularly  influenced  by  the 
reading  of  the  Pilgrims  Progress  ;  and  late  in 
life,  when  writing  his  biography,  he  briefly,  but 
significantly,  attempts  to  reproduce  the  intense 
enjoyment  he  received — the  book  evidently 
caught  and  coloured  his  whole  imagination.  At 
this  time,  too,  he  was  very  nearly  drowned, 
and  while  drowning,  so  far  from  having  any 
sense  of  terror,  he  had  no  sense  nor  idea  of  the 
things  of  this  world,  but  that  it  appeared  to 
him  he  rushingly  emerged  out  of  thick  dark- 
ness into  what  appeared  to  him  a  glorious  city, 
lustrous  and  brilliant,  the  light  of  which  seemed 
to  illuminate  the  darkness  through  which   he 


220  The  Great  Revival. 

had  urged  his  way.  It  was  as  if  the  city  had  a 
floor  Hke  glass,  and  yet  he  was  sure  that  neither 
city  nor  floor  had  any  substance ;  also  he  saw 
people  there;  the  inhabitants  arrayed  in  robes 
of  what  seemed  the  finest  substance,  but  flow- 
ing from  their  necks  to  their  feet ;  and  yet  he 
was  sensible  too  that  they  had  no  material 
substance;  they  moved,  but  did  not  labour  as 
in  walking,  but  glided  as  if  carried  along  by  the 
wind  ;  and  he  testifies  how  he  felt  a  wonderful 
joy  and  peace,  and  he  never  forgot  the  impres- 
sion through  life,  although  soon  recalled  to  the 
world  in  which  he  was  to  sorrow  and  suffer  so 
much.  It  is  quite  easy  to  see  John  Bunyan  in 
all  this;  but  while  he  was  thus  pleasantly  hap- 
py in  his  visionary  or  intro-visionary  state,  a 
benevolent  and  tender-hearted  Dutchman,  who 
had  been  among  some  haymakers  in  a  field  on 
the  banks  of  the  river,  was  striking  out  after 
him  among  the  willow-bushes  and  sedges  of 
the  stream,  from  whence  he  was  brought,  body 
and  soul,  back  to  the  world  again.  Such  are 
the  glimpses  of  the  childhood  of  Silas. 

Then  shortly  comes  a  dismal  transition  from 
strange  providences  in  the  wood,  and  en- 
chanting visions  beneath  the  waves,  to  the 
singularly  severe  sufferings  of  a  seafaring  life. 
The  ships  in  that  day  have  left  a  grim  and  ugly 
reputation    surviving   still.      The    term    '^  sea- 


'  Story  of  Silas   Told.  221 

devil  "  has  often  been  used  as  descriptive  of  the 
masters  of  ships  in  that  time.  Silas,  seems  to 
have  sailed  under  some  of  the  worst  specimens 
of  this  order.  About  the  age  of  fourteen  he  was 
bound  apprentice  to  Captain  Moses  Lilly,  and 
started  for  his  first  voyage  from  Bristol  to  Ja- 
maica. '*  Here,"  he  says,  ''  I  may  date  my  first 
sufferings."  He  says  the  first  of  his  afflictions 
"  was  sea-sickness,  which  held  me  till  my  arri- 
val in  Jamaica;  "  and- considering  that  it  was  a, 
voyage  of  fourteen  weeks,  it  was  a  fair  spell  of 
entertainment  from  that  pleasant  companion. 
They  were  short  of  water,  they  were  put  on 
short  allowance  of  food,  and  when  having  ob- 
tained their  freight,  while  lying  in  Kingston 
harbour,  their  vessel,  and  seventy-six  sail  of 
ships,  many  of  them  very  large,  but  all  riding 
with  three  anchors  ahead,  were  all  scattered  by 
an  astonishing  hurricane,  and  all  the  vessels  in 
Port  Royal  shared  the  same  fate.  He  tells  how 
the  corpses  of  the  drowned  sailors  strewed  the 
shores,  and  how,  immediately  after  the  subsi- 
dence of  the  hurricane,  a  pestilential  sickness 
swept  away  thousands  of  the  natives.  *'  Every 
morning,"  he  says,  ''  I  have  observed  between 
thirty  and  forty  corpses  carried  past  my  win- 
dow; being  very  near  death  myself,  I  expected 
every  day  to  approach  with  the  messenger  of 
my  dissolution." 


222  The  Great  Revival. 

During  this  time  he  appears  to  have  been 
lying  in  a  warehouse,  with  no  person  to  take 
care  of  him  except  a  negro,  who  every  day 
brought  to  him,  where  he  was  laid  in  his  ham- 
mock, Jesuit's  bark. 

"  At  length,"  he  says,  *'  my  master  gave  me 
up,  and  I  wandered  up  and  down  the  town, 
almost  parched  with  the  insufferable  blaze  of 
the  sun,  till  I  resolved  to  lay  me  down  and  die, 
as  I  had  neither  money  nor  friend;  accordingly, 
I  fixed  upon  a  dunghill  in  the  east  end  of  the 
town  of  Kingston,  and  being  in  such  a  weak 
condition,  I  pondered  much  upon  Job's  case, 
and  considered  mine  similar  to  that  of  his  ; 
however,  I  was  fully  resigned  to  death,  nor  had 
I  the  slightest  expectation  of  relief  from  any 
quarter;  yet  the  kind  providence  of  God  was 
over  me,  and  raised  me  up  a  friend  in  an  entire 
stranger.  A  London  captain  coming  by  was 
struck  with  the  sordid  object,  came  up  to  me, 
and,  in  a  very  compassionate  manner,  asked 
me  if  I  was  sensible  of  any  friend  upon  the  island 
from  whom  I  could  obtain  relief;  he  likewise 
asked  me  to  whom  I  belonged.  I  answered,  to 
Captain  Moses  Lilly,  and  had  been  cast  away 
in  the  late  hurricane.  This  captain  appeared 
to  have  some  knowledge  of  my  master,  and, 
cursing  him  for  a  barbarous  villain,  told  me  he 
would  compel  him  to  take  proper  care  of  me. 


Story  of  Silas   Told,  223 

About  a  quarter  of  an  hour  after  this,  my  mas- 
ter arrived,  whom  I  had  not  seen  before  for  six 
weeks,  and  took  me  to  a  public-house  kept  by 
a  Mrs.  Hutchinson,  and  there  ordered  me  to  be 
taken  proper  care  of.  However,  he  soon  quitted 
the  island,  and  directed  his  course  for  England, 
leaving  me  behind  at  his  sick  quarters  ;  and,  if 
it  should  please  God  to  permit  my  recovery,  I 
was  commanded  to  take  my  passage  to  Eng- 
land in  the  Montserraty  Captain  David  Jones,  a 
very  fatherly,  tender-hearted  man  :  this  was 
the  first  alleviation  of  my  misery.  Now  the 
captain  sent  his  son  on  shore,  in  order  to  receive 
me  on  board.  When  I  came  alongside.  Captain 
Jones,  standing  on  the  ship's  gunwale,  addressed 
me  after  a  very  humane  and  compassionate 
manner,  with  expressions  to  the  following 
effect  :  *  Come,  poor  child,  into  the  cabin,  and 
you  shall  want  nothing  that  the  ship  affords ; 
go,  and  my  son  shall  prepare  for  you,  in  the 
first  place,  a  basin  of  good  egg-flip,  and  any- 
thing else  that  may  be  conducive  to  your  relief.* 
But  I,  being  very  bad  with  my  fever  and  ague, 
could  neither  eat  nor  drink." 

A  very  pleasant  captain,  this  seems,  to  have 
sailed  with  ;  but  poor  Silas  had  very  little  of 
his  company.  However,  the  good  captain  and 
his  boatswain  put  their  experiences  together, 
and  the  poor  boy  was  restored  to  health,  and 


224  T^^^^  Great  Revival. 

after  some  singular  adventures  he  reached 
Bristol.  Arriving  there,  however,  Captain 
Lilly  transferred  him  to  a  Captain  Timothy- 
Tucker,  of  whom  Silas  bears  the  pleasing  testi- 
mony, *'  A  greater  villain,  I  firmly  believe, 
never  existed,  although  at  home  he  assumed 
the  character  and  temper  of  a  saint."  The 
wretch  actually  stole  a  white  woman  from  her 
own  country  to  sell  her  to  the  black  prince  of 
Bonny,  on  the  African  coast.  They  had  not 
been  long  at  sea  before  this  delightful  person 
gave  Silas  a  taste  of  his  temper.  Thinking  the 
boy  had  taken  too  much  bread  from  the  cask, 
he  went  to  the  cabin  and  brought  back  with 
him  his  large  horsewhip,  *'  and  exercised  it," 
says  Silas,  "  about  my  body  in  so  unmerciful  a 
manner,  that  not  only  the  clothes  on  my  back 
were  cut  to  pieces,  but  every  sailor  declared 
they  could  see  my  bones;  and  then  he  threw 
me  all  along  the  deck,  and  jumped  many  times 
upon  the  pit  of  my  stomach,  in  order  to  en- 
danger my  life  ;  and  had  not  the  people  laid 
hold  of  my  two  legs,  and  thrown  me  under  the 
windlass,  after  the  manner  they  throw  dead 
cats  or  dogs,  he  would  have  ended  his  despotic 
cruelty  in  murder."  This  free  and  easy  mode 
of  recreation  was  much  indulged  in  by  seafaring 
officers  in  that  time,  but  this  Tucker  appears  to 
have  been  really  what  Silas  calls  him,  *'  a  blood- 


Story  of  Silas    Told.  225 

thirsty  devil ;"  and  stories  of  murder,  and  the 
incredible  cruelties  of  the  slave-trade  lend  their 
horrible  fascination  to  the  narrative  of  Silas  Told. 
How  would  it  be  possible  to  work  the  com- 
merce of  the  slave-trade  without  such  characters 
as  this  Tucker,  who  presents  much  more  the 
appearance  of  a  lawless  pirate  than  of  the  noble 
character  we  call  a  sailor  ? 

Those  readers  who  would  like  to  follow  poor 
Silas  through  the  entire  details  of  his  miseries 
on  ship-board,  his  hairbreadth  escapes  from 
peril  and  shipwreck,  must  read  them  in  Silas's 
own  book,  if  they  can  find  it  ;  but  we  may  at- 
tempt to  give  some  little  account  of  his  wreck 
upon  the  American  coast,  in  New  England. 
Few  stories  can  be  more  charming  than  the 
picture  he  gives  of  his  wanderings  with  his 
companions  after  their  escape  from  the  wreck, 
not  because  he  and  they  were  destitute,  and 
all  but  naked,  but  because  of  the  pleasant 
glimpses  we  have  of  the  simple,  hospitable, 
home-life  in  those  beautiful  old  New  England 
days — hospitality  of  the  most  romantic  and 
free-handed  description. 

We  will  select  two  pictures,  as  illustrating 
something  of  the  character  of  New  England 
settlements  in  those  very  early  days  of  their 
history.  Silas  and  his  companions  were  cast 
on   shore,    and  had  found  refuge   in   a   tavern 


226  The  Great  Revival. 

seven  miles  from  the  beach  ;  he  had  no  cloth- 
ing; but  the  landlord  of  the  tavern  gave  him  a 
pair  of  red  breeches,  the  last  he  had  after  sup- 
plying the   rest.     Silas   goes   on  :    *'  Ebenezer 
Allen,  Governor  of  the  island,  and  who  dwelt 
about  six  miles  from  the  tavern,  hearing  of  our 
distress,  made  all  possible  haste  to  relieve  us  ; 
and  when  he  arrived  at  the  tavern,  accompan- 
ied by   his  two  eldest  sons,  he  took  Captain 
Seaborn,  his  black  servant,  Joseph  and  myself 
through  partiality,  and  escorted  us  home  to  his 
own   house.     Between   eleven    and   twelve  at 
night  we  reached  the  Governor's  mansion,  all 
of  us  asham.ed  to  be  seen  ;  we  would  fain  have 
hid  ourselves  in  any  dark  hole  or  corner,  as  it 
was   a  truly   magnificent  building,  with  wings 
on  each  side  thereof,  but,  to  our  astonishment, 
we  were  received  into  the  great  parlour,  where 
were   sitting   by  the   fireside   two  fine,  portly 
ladies,  attending  the  spit,  which  was  burdened 
with  a  very  heavy  quarter  of  house-lamb.     Ob- 
serving a  large  mahogany  table  to  be  spread 
with  a  fine  damask  cloth,  and  every  knife,  fork, 
and  plate  to  be  laid  in  a  genteel  mode,  I  was 
apprehensive  that  it  was  intended  for  the  en- 
tertainment of  some  persons  of  note  or  distinc- 
tion,   or,    at  least,   for  a   family  supper.     In  a 
short  time  the  joint  was  taken  up,  and  laid  on 
the  table,  yet  nobody  sat  down  to  eat  ;  and  as 


Story  of  Silas    Told.  227 

we  were  almost  hid  in  one  corner  of  the  room, 
the  ladies  turned  round  and  said,  '  Poor  men, 
why  don't  you  come  to  supper  ?'  I  replied, 
*  Madam,  we  had  no  idea  it  was  prepared  for 
us.'  The  ladies  then  entreated  us  to  eat  with- 
out any  fear  of  them,  assuring  us  that  it  was 
prepared  for  none  others  ;  and  none  of  us  hav- 
ing eaten  anything  for  near  six  and  thirty 
hours  before,  we  picked  the  bones  of  the  whole 
quarter,  to  which  we  had  plenty  of  rich  old 
cider  to  drink  :  after  supper  we  went  to  bed, 
and  enjoyed  so  profound  a  sleep  that  the  next 
morning  it  was  difficult  for  the  old  gentleman 
to  awake  us.  The  following  day  I  became  the 
partaker  of  several  second-hand  garments,  and, 
as  I  was  happily  possessed  of  a  little  learning, 
it  caused  me  to  be  more  abundantly  caressed 
by  the  whole  family,  and  therefore  I  fared 
sumptuously  every  day. 

"  This  unexpected  change  of  circumstances 
and  diet  I  undoubtedly  experienced  in  a  very 
uncommon  manner;  but  as  I  was  strictly  trained 
up  a  Churchman,  I  could  not  support  the  idea 
of  a  Dissenter,  although,  God  knows,  I  had 
well-nigh  by  this  time  dissented  from  all  that  is 
truly  good.  This  proved  a  bar  to  my  promo- 
tion, and  my  strong  propensity  to  sail  for  Eng- 
land to  see  my  mother  prevented  my  acceptance 
of  the  greatest  offer  I  ever  received  in  my  life 


228  The  Great  Revival, 

before;  for  when  the  day  came  that  we  were  to 
quit  the  island,  and  to  cross  the  sound  over  to 
a  town  called  Sandwich,  on  the  main  continent, 
the  young  esquire  took  me  apart  from  my  asso- 
ciates, and  earnestly  entreated  me  to  tarry  with  „ 
them,  saying  that  if  I  would  accede  to  their 
proposals  nothing  should  be  lacking  to  render 
my  situation  equivalent  to  the  rest  of  the  fam- 
ily. As  there  were  very  few  white  men  on  the 
island,  I  was  fixed  upon,  if  willing,  to  espouse 
one  of  the  Governor's  daughters.  I  had  been 
informed  that  the  Governor  was  immensely  rich, 
having  on  the  island  two  thousand  head  of  cat- 
tle and  twenty  thousand  sheep,  and  every  acre 
of  land  thereon  belonging  to  himself  However, 
I  could  not  be  prevailed  upon  to  accept  the 
offer;  therefore  the  Governor  furnished  us  with 
forty  shillings  each,  and  gave  us  a  pass  over  to 
the  town  of  Sandwich." 

Such  passages  as  this  show  the  severe  experi- 
ences through  which  Silas  passed;  they  illus- 
trate the  education  he  was  receiving  for  that 
life  of  singular  earnestness  and  tenderness  which  . 
was  to  close  and  crown  his  career;  but  we  have 
made  the  extract  here  for  the  purpose  of  giving 
some  idea  of  that  cheerful,  hospitable,  home 
life  of  New  England  in  those  then  almost  wild 
regions  which  are  now  covered  with  the  popu- 
lation of  towns. 


Story  of  Silas   Told.  229 

Here  is  another  instance,  which  occurred  at 
Hanover,  in  the  United  States,  through  which 
district  Silas  and  his  companions  appear  to  have 
been  wending  their  way,  seeking  a  return  to 
England.  ''  One  Sunday,  as  my  companions 
and  self  were  crossing  the  churchyard  at  the 
time  of  Divine  service,  a  well-dressed  gentle- 
man came  out  of  the  church  and  said,  *  Gentle- 
men, we  do  not  suffer  any  person  in  this  country 
to  travel  on  the  Lord's  day.'  We  gave  him  to 
understand  that  it  was  necessity  which  con- 
strained us  to  walk  that  way,  as  we  had  all  been 
shipwrecked  on  St.  Martin's  [Martha's  (.^)] 
Vineyard,  and  were  journeying  to  Boston.  The 
gentleman  was  still  dissatisfied,  but  quitted  our 
company  and  went  into  church.  When  we  had 
gone  a  little  farther,  a  large  white  house  proved 
the  object  of  our  attention.  The  door  being 
wide  open,  we  reasonably  imagined  it  was  not 
in  an  unguarded  state,  without  servants  or 
others;  but  as  we  all  went  into  the  kitchen,  no- 
body appeared  to  be  within,  nor  was  there  an 
individual  either  above  or  below.  However,  I 
advised  my  companions  to  tarry  in  the  house 
until  some  person  or  other  should  arrive.  They 
did  so,  and  in  a  short  time  afterwards  two  la- 
dies, richly  dressed,  with  a  footman  following 
them,  came  in  throup-h  the  kitchen;  and,  not- 
withstanding  they  turned  round  and    saw  us, 


230  The  Great  Revival. 

who  in  so  dirty  and  disagreeable  a  garb  and  ap- 
pearance might  have  terrified  them  exceed- 
ingly, yet  neither  of  them  was  observed  to  take 
any  notice  of  us,  nor  did  either  of  them  ask  us 
any  questions  touching  the  cause  of  so  great  an 
intrusion. 

*'  About  a  quarter  of  an  hour  afterwards,  a 
footman  entered  the  kitchen  with  a  cloth  and 
a  large  two-quart  silver  tankard  full  of  rich 
cider,  also  a  loaf  and  cheese  ;  but  we,  not 
knowing  it  was  prepared  for  us,  did  not  at- 
tempt to  partake  thereof.  At  length  the  ladies 
coming  into  the  kitchen,  and  viewing  us  in  our 
former  position,  desired  to  know  the  reason  of 
our  malady,  seeing  we  were  not  refreshing  our- 
selves ;  whereupon  I  urged  the  others  to  join 
with  me  in  the  acceptance  of  so  hospitable  a 
proposal.  After  this  the  ladies  commenced  a 
similar  inquiry  into  our  situation.  I  gave  them 
as  particular  an  account  of  every  recent  vicissi- 
tude that  befell  us  as  I  was  capable  of,  with  a 
genuine  relation  of  our  being  shipwrecked,  and 
the  sole  reasons  of  our  travelling  into  that 
country;  likewise  begged  that  they  would  ex- 
cuse our  impertinence,  as  they  were  already  in- 
formed of  the  cause;  we  were  then  emboldened 
to  ask  the  ladies  if  they  could  furnish  us  with  a 
lodging  that  evening.  They  replied  it  was 
uncertain  whether  our  wishes  could  be  accom- 


Story  of  Silas   Told.  231 

plished  there,  but  that  if  we  proceeded  some- 
what farther  we  should  doubtless  be  enter- 
tained and  genteelly  accommodated  by  their 
brother — a  Quaker — whose  house  was  not  more 
than  a  distance  of  seven  miles.  We  thanked 
the  ladies,  and  set  forward,  and  at  about  eight 
o'clock  arrived  at  their  brother's  house.  Fa- 
tigued with  our  journey,  we  hastened  into  the 
parlour  and  delivered  our  message;  whereupon 
a  gentleman  gave  us  to  understand,  by  his  free 
and  liberal  conduct,  that  he  was  the  Quaker 
referred  to  by  the  aforesaid  ladies,  who,  total 
strangers  as  we  were,  used  us  with  a  degree  of 
hospitality  impossible  to  be  exceeded  ;  indeed, 
I  could  venture  to  say  that  the  accommoda- 
tions we  met  with  at  the  Quaker's  house,  see- 
ing they  were  imparted  to  us  with  such  affec- 
tionate sympathy,  greatly  outweighed  those 
we  formerly  experienced. 

"After  our  banquet,  the  gentleman  took  us 
up  into  a  fine  spacious  bed-chamber,  with  de- 
sirable bedding  and  very  costly  chintz  curtains. 
We  enjoyed  a  sound  night's  rest,  and  arose  be- 
tween seven  and  eight  the  next  morning,  and 
were  entertained  with  a  good  breakfast  ; 
returned  many  thanks  for  the  unrestrained 
friendship  and  liberality,  and  departed  there- 
from, fully  purposed  to  direct  our  course  for 
Boston,  which  was  not  more  than  seven  miles 


232  The  Great  Revival. 

farther.  Here  all  the  land  was  strewed  with 
plenty,  the  orchards  were  replete  with  apple- 
trees  and  pears  ;  they  had  cider-presses  in  the 
centre  of  their  orchards,  and  great  quantities 
of  fine  cider,  and  any  person  might  become  a 
partaker  thereof  for  the  mere  trouble  of  asking. 
We  soon  entered  Boston,  a  commodious,  beau- 
tiful city,  with  seventeen  spired  meetings,  the 
dissenting  religion  being  then  established  in 
that  part  of  the  world.  I  resided  here  for  the 
space  of  four  months,  and  lodged  with  Captain 
Seaborn  at  Deacon  Townshend's;  deacon  of  the 
North  Meeting,  and  by  trade  a  blacksmith." 
He  gives  a  glowing  and  beautiful  description  of 
the  high  moral  and  religious  character  of  Bos- 
ton ;  here  also  he  met  with  a  stroke  of  good 
fortune  in  receiving  some  arrears  of  salvage  for 
a  vessel  he  had  assisted  in  savmg  before  his  last 
wreck.  Such  are  specimens  of  the  interest  and 
entertainment  afforded  in  the  earlier  parts  of 
this  pleasant  piece  of  autobiography.  But  we 
must  hasten  past  his  adventures,  both  in  the 
island  of  Antigua  and  among  the  islands  of  the 
Mediterranean. 

It  is  not  wonderful  that  the  great  sufferings 
and  toils  of  Silas  should,  even  at  a  very  early 
period  of  life,  prostrate  his  health,  and  subject 
him  to  repeated  vehement  attacks  of  illness. 
He  was  but  twenty-three  when  he    married  ; 


^  Stoiy  of  Silas   Told.  233 

still,  however,  a  sailor,  and  destined  yet  for 
some  wild  experiences  on  the  seas.  Not  long, 
however.  A  married  life  disposed  him  for  a 
home  life,  and  he  accepted,  while  still  a  very 
young  man,  the  position  of  a  schoolmaster,  be- 
neath the  patronage  of  a  Lady  Luther,  in  the 
county  of  Essex.  He  was  not  in  this  position 
very  long.  Silas,  although  an  unconverted 
man,  must  have  had  strong  religious  feelings  ; 
and  the  clergyman  of  the  parish,  fond  of  smok- 
ing and  drinking  with  him — and  it  may  well  be 
conceived  what  an  entertaining  companion 
Silas  must  have  been  in  those  days,  with  his 
budget  of  adventures — ridiculed  him  for  his 
faith  in  the  Scriptures  and  his  belief  in  Bible 
theology.  This  so  shocked  Silas,  that,  making 
no  special  profession  of  religion,  he  yet  sepa- 
rated himself  from  the  clergyman's  company, 
and  shortly  after  he  left  that  neighbourhood, 
and  again  sought  his  fortune,  but  without  any 
very  cheerful  prospects,  in  London. 

It  was  in  1740  that  a  young  blacksmith  intro- 
duced him  to  the  people  whom  he  had  hitherto 
hated  and  despised — the  Methodists.  He  heard 
John  Wesley  preach  at  the  Foundry  in  the 
Moor  Fields  from  the  text,  *'  I  write  unto  you, 
little  children,  for  your  sins  are  forgiven  you." 
This  set  his  soul  on  fire;  he  became  a  Method- 
ist, notwithstanding  the  very  vehement  oppo- 


234  The  Great  Revival. 

sition  of  his  wife,  to  whom  he  appears  to  have 
been  very  tenderly  attached,  and  who  herself 
was  a  very  motherly  and  virtuous  woman,  but 
altogether  indisposed  to  the  new  notions,  as 
many  people  considered  them.  He  improved 
in  circumstances,  and  became  a  responsible 
managing  clerk  on  a  wharf  at  Wapping.  While 
there  Mr.  Wesley  repeatedly  and  earnestly 
pressed  him  to  take  charge  of  the  charity  schbol 
he  had  established  at  the  Foundry.  After  long 
hesitation  he  did  so;  and  it  was  here  that  while 
attending  a  service  at  five  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing, he  heard  Mr.  Wesley  preach  from  the  text, 
"  I  was  sick,  and  in  prison,  and  ye  visited  me 
not."  By  a  most  remarkable  application  of  this 
charge  to  himself,  Silas  testifies  that  his  mind 
was  stirred  with  a  strange  compunction,  as  he 
thought  that  he  had  never  cared  for,  or  at- 
tempted to  ameliorate  the  condition,  or  to  min- 
ister to  the  souls  of  the  crowds  of  those  unhappy 
malefactors  who  then  almost  weekly  expiated 
their  offences,  very  often  of  the  most  trivial 
description,  on  the  gallows.  It  seems  that  the 
hearing  that  sermon  proved  to  be  a  most 
remarkable  turning-point  in  the  life  of  Silas. 
Through  it  he  became  most  eminently  useful 
during  a  very  remarkable  and  painful  career; 
and  his  after-life  is  surrounded  by  such  a  suc- 
cession of  romantic  incidents  that  they  at  once 


Story  of  Silas   Told.  235 

equal,  if  they  do  not  transcend,  and  strangely 
contrast  with  his  wild  adventures  on  the  seas. 
And  here  we  may  pause  a  moment  to  reflect 
how  every  man's  work  derives  its  character  from 
what  he  was  before.  What  thousands  of  sailors, 
in  that  day,  passed  through  all  the  trials  which 
Silas  passed,  leaving  them  still  only  rough 
sailor  men!  In  him  all  the  roughness  seemed 
only  to  strike  down  to  depths  of  wonderful 
compassion  and  tenderness.  Singular  was  the 
university  in  which  he  graduated  to  become  so 
great  and  powerful  a  preacher  !  How  he  preached 
we  do  not  know,  but  his  words  must  have  been 
warm  and  touching,  faithful  and  loving,  judging 
from  their  results;  and  as  to  his  pulpit,  we  do 
not  hear  that  it  was  in  chapels  or  churches — 
his  audience  was  very  much  confined  to  the 
condemned  cell,  and  to  the  cart  from  whence 
the  poor  victims  were  "  turned  off,'**  as  it  was 
called  in  those  days.  In  this  work  he  found 
his  singular  niche.  How  long  it  often  takes  for 
a  man  to  find  his  place  in  the  work  that  is 
given  him  to  do;  and  when  the  place  is  found, 
sometimes,  how  long  it  takes  to  fit  nicely  and 
admirably  into  the  work  itself!  what  sharp 
angles  have  to  be  rubbed  away,  what  difficulties 
to  be  overcome!  It  is  wonderful,  with  all  the 
horrible  experiences  through  which  this  man 
had  passed,  and  spectacles  of  cruelty  so  revolt- 


236  The  Great  Revival. 

ing  that  they  seem  almost  to  shake  our  faith, 
not  merely  in  man,  but  even  in  a  just  and  over- 
ruling God,  that  every  sentiment  of  religion 
and  tenderness  had  not  been  eradicated  from 
his  nature;  but  it  would  appear  that  the  old 
gracious  influences  of  childhood — the  days  of 
the  Pilgrim's  Progress^  and  the  wonderful 
vision  when  drowning  beneath  the  waters,  had 
never  been  effaced  through  all  his  strange  and 
chequered  career,  although  certainly  not  un- 
tainted by  the  sins  of  the  ordinary  sailor's  life. 
The  work  in  which  he  was  now  to  be  engaged 
needed  a  very  tender  and  affectionate  nature; 
but  ordinary  tenderness  starts  back  and  is 
repelled  by  cruel  and  repulsive  scenes.  Told's 
education  on  the  seas,  like  that  of  a  surgeon  in 
a  hospital,  enabled  him  to  look  on  harrowing 
sights  of  suffering  without  wincing,  or  losing  in 
his  tender  interest  his  own  self-possession. 

It  ought  not  to  be  forgotten  that  John  How- 
ard, -the  great  prison  philanthropist,  belongs  to 
the  epoch  of  the  Great  Revival.  Of  him 
Edmund  Burke  said,  ''  He  had  visited  all 
Europe  in  a  circumnavigation  of  charity,  not  to 
survey  the  sumptuousness  of  palaces,  or  the 
stateliness  of  temples;  not  to  collect  medals  or 
to  collate  manuscripts,  but  to  dive  into  the 
depths  of  dungeons  and  to  plunge  into  the  in- 
fections of  hospitals."    About  the  year  1760,* 

*  See  Appendix. 


Story  of  Silas   Told.  237 

when  he  began  his  consecrated  work,  Silas  Told, 
as  a  "prison  philanthropist  upon  a  smaller,  but 
equally  earnest  scale,  attempted  to  console  the 
prisoners  of  Newgate. 

Shortly  after  hearing  that  sermon  to  which 
we  have  alluded,  a  messenger  came  to  him  at 
the  school  to  tell  him  that  there  were  ten 
malefactors  lying  under  sentence  of  death  in 
Newgate,  some  of  them  in  a  state  of  consider- 
able terror  and  alarm,  and  imploring  him  to 
find  some  one  to  visit  them.  Here  was  the  call 
to  the  work.  The  coincidences  were  remark- 
able :  John  Wesley's  sermon,  his  own  aroused 
and  tender  state  of  mind  produced  by  the 
sermon,  and  the  occasion  for  the  active  and 
practical  exercise  of  his  feeling.  So  opportu- 
nities would  meet  us  of  turning  suggestions  into 
usefulness,  if  we  watched  for  them. 

The  English  laws  were  barbarous  in  those 
days  ;  truly  it  has  been  said  that  a  fearfully 
heavy  weight  of  blood  rests  upon  the  conscience 
of  England  for  the  state  of  the  law  in  those 
times.  Few  of  those  who  have  given  such 
honour  to  the  noble  labours  of  John  Howard 
and  the  loving  ministrations  of  Elizabeth  Fry 
ever  heard  of  Silas  Told.  In  a  smaller  sphere 
than  the  first  of  these,  and  in  a  much  more  in- 
tensely painful  manner  than  the  second,  he 
anticipated  the  labours  of  both.     He  instantly 


238  The  G7'eat  Revival. 

responded  to  this  first  call  to  Newgate.  Two 
of  the  ten  malefactors  were  reprieved  ;  he 
attended  the  remaining  eight  to  the  gallows. 
He  had  so  influenced  the  hearts  of  all  of  them 
in  their  cell  that  their  obduracy  was  broken 
down  and  softened — so  great  had  been  his 
power  over  them,  that  locked  up  together  in 
one  cell  the  night  before  their  execution,  they 
had  spent  it  in  prayer  and  solemn  conversation. 
"  At  length  they  were  ordered  into  the  cart, 
and  I  was  prevailed  upon  to  go  with  them. 
When  we  were  in  the  cart  I  addressed  myself 
to  each  of  them  separately.  The  first  was  Mr. 
Atkins,  the  son  of  a  glazier  in  the  city,  a  youth 
nineteen  years  of  age.  I  said  to  him,  '  My  dear, 
are  you  afraid  to  die  T  He  said,  '  No,  sir; 
really  I  am  not.'  I  asked  him  wherefore  he  was 
not  afraid  to  die  }  and  he  said,  '  I  have  laid  my 
soul  at  the  feet  of  Jesus,  therefore  I  am  not 
afraid  to  die.'  I  then  spake  to  Mr.  Gardner,  a 
journeyman  carpenter;  he  made  a  very  comfort- 
able report  of  the  true  peace  of  God  which  he 
found  reigning  in  his  heart.  The  last  person 
to  whom  I  spoke  was  one  Thompson,  a  very 
illiterate  young  man;  but  he  assured  me  he  was 
perfectly  happy  in  his  Saviour,  and  continued 
so  until  his  last  moments.  This  was  the  first 
time  of  my  visiting  the  malefactors  in  Newgate, 
and  then  it  was  not  without  much  shame  and 


Story  of  Silas    Told.  239 

fear,  because  I  clearly  perceived  the  greater  part 
of  the  populace  considered  me  as  one  of  the 
sufferers." 

The  most  remarkable  of  this  cluster  was  one 
John  Lancaster — for  what  offence  he  was  sent- 
enced to  death  does  not  appear;  but  the  entire 
account  Silas  gives  of  him,  both  in  the  prison 
and  at  the  place  of  execution,  exhibits  a  fine, 
tender,  and  really  holy  character.  The  attend- 
ant sheriff  himself  burst  into  tears  before  the 
beautiful  demeanour  of  this  young  man.  How- 
ever, so  it  was,  that  he  was  without  any  friend 
in  London  to  procure  for  his  body  a  proper 
interment;  and  the  story  of  Silas  admits  us, 
into  a  pretty  spectacle  of  the  times.  After  the 
poor  bodies  were  cut  down,  Lancaster's  was 
seized  by  a  surgeons'  mob,  who  intended  to 
carry  it  over  to  Paddington.  It  was  Silas's  first 
experience,  as  we  have  seen  ;  and  he  describes 
the  whole  scene  as  rather  like  a  great  fair  than 
an  awful  execution.  In  this  confusion  the  body 
of  Lancaster  had  been  seized,  the  crowd  dis- 
persed— all  save  some  old  woman,  who  sold 
gin,  and  Silas  himself,  very  likely  smitten  into 
extraordinary  meditation  by  a  spectacle  so  new 
to  him — when  a  company  of  eight  sailors  ap- 
peared on  the  scene,  with  truncheons  in  their 
hands,  who  said  they  had  come  to  see  the  ex- 
ecution, and  gazed  with  very  menacing  faces 


240  The  Great  Revival. 

on  the  vacated  gallows  from  whence  the  bodies 
had  been  cut  down.  ''  Gentlemen,"  said  the 
old  woman,  '*  I  suppose  you  want  the  man  that 
the  surgeons  have  got  ?"  ''  Ay,"  said  the  sailors, 
where  is  he  ?"  The  old  woman  gave  them  to 
understand  that  the  body  had  been  carried 
away  to  Paddington,  and  she  pointed  them  to 
the  direct  road.  Away  the  sailors  hastened — 
it  may  be  presumed  that  Lancaster  was  a 
sailor,  and  some  old  comrade  of  these  men. 
They  demanded  his  body  from  the  surgeons' 
mob,  and  obtained  it.  What  they  intended  to 
do  with  it  scarcely  transpires  ;  it  is  most  likely 
that  they  had  intended  a  rescue  at  the  foot  of 
the  gallows,  and  arrived  too  late.  However, 
hoisting  it  on  their  shoulders,  away  they 
marched  with  it  off  to  Islington,  and  thence 
round  to  Shoreditch  ;  thence  to  a  place  called 
Coventry's  Fields.  By  this  time  they  were 
getting  fairly  wearied  out  with  their  burden, 
and  by  unanimous  consent  they  agreed  to  lay 
it  on  the  step  of  the  first  door  they  came  to  : 
this  done,  they  started  off.  It  created  some 
stir  in  the  street,  which  brought  down  an  old 
woman  who  lived  in  the  house  to  the  step  of  the 
door,  and  who  exclaimed,  as  she  saw  the  body, 
in  a  loud,  agitated  voice,  ''Lord  !  this  is  my  son 
John  Lancaster  !"  It  is  probable  that  the  old 
woman  was  a  Methodist,  for  to  Silas  Told  and 


Story  of  Silas   Told.  241 

the  Methodists  she  was  indebted  for  a  decent  and 
respectable  burial  for  her  son  in  a  good  strong 
coffin  and  decent  shroud.  Silas  and  his  wife 
went  to  see  him  whilst  he  was  lying-  so,  previ- 
ous to  his  burial.  There  was  no  alteration  of 
his  visage,  no  marks  of  violence,  and  says  Told, 
*'  A  pleasant  smile  appeared  on  his  counte- 
nance, and  he  lay  as  in  sweet  sleep."  A  singu- 
larly romantic  story,  for  it  seems  the  sailors  did 
not  know  at  all  to  whom  he  belonged;  and 
what  an  insight  into  the  social  condition  of 
London  at  that  time  ! 

Told  did  not  give  up  his  connection  with  his 
school  at  the  Foundry,  but  he  devoted  himself, 
sanctioned  by  John  Wesley  and  his  Church 
fellowship,  to  the  preaching  and  ministering  to 
all  the  poor  felons  and  malefactors  in  London, 
including  also,  in  this  exercise  of  love,  the 
work-houses  for  twelve  miles  round  London;  he 
believed  he  had  a  message  of  tender  sympathy 
for  those  who  were  of  this  order,  *'  sick  and  in 
prison."  It  seems  strange  to  us,  who  know  how 
much  he  had  suffered  himself,  that  the  old 
sailor  possessed  such  a  loving,  tender,  and 
affectionate  heart;  and  yet  he  tells  how,  in  the 
earlier  part  of  these  very  years,  he  was  haunted 
by  irritating  doubts  and  alarms  :  then  came  to 
him  old  mystical  revelations,  such  as  those  he 
had   known  when   drowning,  reminding  us  of 


242  The  Great  Revival. 

similar  instances  in  the  lives  of  John  Howe  and 
John  Flavel;  and  the  noble  man  was  strength- 
ened. 

He  went  on  for  twenty  years  in  the  way  we 
have  described;  and  the  interest  of  his  autobi- 
ography compels  the  wish  that  it  were  much 
longer;  for,  of  course,  the  largest  amount  of  his 
precious  life  of  labour  was  not  set  down,  and 
cannot  be  recalled  ;  and  readers  who  are  fond 
of  romance  will  find  his  name  in  connection 
with  some  of  the  most  remarkable  executions 
of  his  time. 

A  singular  circumstance  was  this  :  Four 
gentlemen — Mr.  Brett,  the  son  of  an  eminent 
divine  in  Dublin;  Whalley,  a  gentleman  of  con- 
siderable fortune,  possessed  of  three  country- 
seats  of  his  own;  Dupree,  *'in  every  particular," 
says  Silas,  '*a  complete  gentleman;"  and  Mor- 
gan, an  officer  on  board  one  of  His  Majesty's 
ships  of  war — after  dinner,  upon  the  occasion  of 
their  being  at  an  election  for  the  members  for 
Chelmsford,  proposed  to  start  forth,  and,  by 
way  of  recreation,  rob  somebody  on  the  high- 
way. Away  they  went,  and  chanced  upon  a 
farmer,  whom  they  eased  of  a  considerable  sum 
of  money.  The  farmer  followed  them  into 
Chelmsford  ;  they  were  all  secured,  and  next 
day  removed  to  London;  they  took  their  trials, 
and   were   sentenced,  and   left   for   execution. 


Story  of  Silas   Told,  243 

Told  visited  them  all  in  prison.  Morgan  was 
engaged  to  be  married  to  Lady  Elizabeth  Ham- 
ilton, the  sister  of  the  Duke  of  Hamilton.  She 
repeatedly  visited  her  affianced  husband  in  the 
cell,  and  Told  was  with  them  at  most  of  their 
interviews.  It  was  supposed  that,  from  the 
rank  of  the  prisoners,  and  the  character  of  their 
offence,  there  would  be  no  difficulty  in  obtain- 
ing a  reprieve  ;  but  the  King  was  quite  inexor- 
able ;  he  said,  ''his  subjects  were  not  to  be  in 
bodily  fear  in  order  that  men  might  gratify 
their  drunken  whims."  Lady  Elizabeth  Ham- 
ilton, however,  thrust  herself  several  times  be- 
fore the  King ;  wept,  threw  herself  on  her 
knees,  and  behaved  altogether  in  such  a  man- 
ner that  the  King  said,  "  Lady  Betsy,  there  is 
no  standing  your  importunity  any  further  ;  I 
will  spare  his  life,  but  on  one  condition — that 
he  is  not  acquainted  therewith  until  he  arrives 
at  the  place  of  execution;"  and  it  was  so.  The 
other  three  unfortunates  were  executed,  and 
Lady  Elizabeth,  in  her  coach,  received  her 
lover  into  it  as  he  stepped  from  the  cart.  It  is 
a  sad  story,  but  it  must  have  been  a  sweet  sat- 
isfaction to  the  lady. 

Far  more  dreadful  were  some  cases  which 
engaged  the  tender  heart  of  Silas.  A  young 
man,  named  Coleman,  was  tried  for  an  aggra- 
vated assault  on  a  young  woman.     The  young 


244  '^^^^  Great  Revival. 

woman  herself  declared  that  Coleman  was  not 
the  man  ;  but  he  had  enemies  who  pressed  ap- 
parent circumstances  against  him,  and  urged 
them  on  the  young  woman,  to  induce  her  to 
change  her  opinion.  She  never  wavered  ;  yet, 
singular  to  say,  he  was  convicted  and  executed. 
A  short  time  after  the  real  criminal  was  dis- 
covered, by  his  own  confession  ;  he  was  also 
tried,  condemned,  and  executed,  and  the  per- 
jured witnesses  against  poor  Coleman  sentenced 
to  stand  in  the  pillory. 

But  one  of  the  most  pitiful  and  dreadful  cases 
in  Silas  Told's  experience  was  that  of  Mary 
Edmondson,  a  sweet  young  girl,  tried  upon 
mere  circumstantial  evidence,  and  executed 
on  Kennington  Common,  for  the  supposed 
murder  of  her  aunt  at  Rotherhithe.  She  ap- 
pears to  have  been  most  brutally  treated  ;  the 
mob  believed  her  to  be  guilty,  and  received 
her  with  shocking  execrations.  Whether  Silas 
had  a  prejudice  against  her  or  not,  we  cannot 
say ;  it  is  not  likely  that  he  had  a  prejudice 
against  any  suffering  soul;  but  it  so  happened, 
he  says,  as  he  had  not  visited  her  in  her  impris- 
onment, so  he  entertained  no  idea  of  seeing  her 
suffer.  But  as  he  was  passing  through  the 
Borough,  a  pious  cheesemonger,  named  Skin- 
ner, called  him  into  his  shop,  tenderly  ex- 
pressed deep  interest  in  her  present  and  future 


Story  of  Silas   Told.  245 

state,  and  besought  him  to  see  her;  so  his  first 
interview  with  her  was  only  just  as  she  was 
going  forth  to  her  sad  end. 

Silas  shall  tell  the  story  himself:  ''When 
she  was  brought  into  the  room,  she  stood  with 
her  back  against  the  wainscot,  but  appeared 
perfectly  resigned  to  the  will  of  God.  I  then 
addressed  myself  to  her,  saying,  *  My  dear,  for 
God's  sake,  for  Christ's  sake,  for  the  sake  of 
your  own  precious  soul,  do  not  die  with  a  lie  in 
your  mouth;  you  are,  in  a  few  moments,  to  ap- 
pear in  the  presence  of  the  holy  God,  who  is  of 
purer  eyes  than  to  behold  iniquity.  Oh,  con- 
sider what  an  eternity  of  misery  must  be  the 
position  of  all  who  die  in  their  sins  !'  She 
heard  me  with  much  meekness  and  simplicity, 
but  answered  that  she  had  already  advanced 
the  truth,  and  must  persevere  in  the  same  spirit 
to  her  last  moments."  Efforts  were  made  to 
prevent  Told  from  accompanying  her  any  far- 
ther, and  the  rioters  were  so  exasperated 
against  her  that  Told  seems  only  to  have  been 
safe  by  keeping  near  to  the  sheriff  along  the 
whole  way.  The  sheriff  also  told  him  that  he 
would  be  giving  a  great  satisfaction  to  the 
whole  nation,  could  he  only  bring  her  to  a  con- 
fession. *'  Now,  as  we  were  proceeding  on  the 
road,  the  sheriff's  horse  being  close  to  the  cart, 
I   looked   up   at  her  from   under    the    horse's 


246  The  Great  Revival. 

bridle,  and  I  said,  *  My  dear,  look  to  Jesus/ 
This  quickened  her  spirit,  insomuch  that  al- 
though she  had  not  looked  about  her  before, 
she  turned  herself  round  to  me,  and  said,  '  Sir, 
I  bless  God  I  can  look  to  Jesus — to  my  com- 
fort.' " 

Arrived  at  the  place  of  execution,  he  spoke 
to  her  again  solemnly,  *'  Did  you  not  commit 
the  act  ?  Had  you  no  concern  therein  ?  Were 
you  not  interested  in  the  murder  ?"  She  said, 
**  I  am  as  clear  of  the  whole  affair  as  I  was  the 
day  my  mother  brought  me  into  the  world." 
She  was  very  young,  she  had  all  the  aspects  of 
innocence  about  her.  The  sheriff  burst  into 
tears,  and  turned  his  head  away,  exclaiming, 
*'  Good  God  !  it  is  a  second  Coleman's  case  !" 

At  this  moment  her  cousin  stepped  up  into 
the  cart,  and  sought  to  kiss  her.  She  turned 
her  face  away,  and  pushed  him  off.  She  had 
before  charged  him  with  being  the  murderer — 
and  he  was.  When  subsequently  taken  up  for 
another  crime,  he  confessed  the  committal  of 
this.  Her  aunt  had  left  to  Mary,  in  the  event 
of  her  death,  more  money  than  to  this  wretch. 
The  executioner  drew  the  cart  away,  and 
Mary's  body — leaning  the  poor  head,  in  her  last 
moments,  on  Silas's  shoulder — dear  old  Silas, 
her  only  comfort  in  that  terrible  hour — fell  in- 
to the  arms  of  death.      But  he  tells  how  she 


Story  of  Silas   Told.  247 

was  cold  and  still   before  the  cart  was  drawn 
away. 

But  perhaps  a  still  more  pitiful  case  was  that 
of  poor  Anderson,  who  was  hanged  for  stealing 
sixpence:  he  was  a  labouring  man,  and  had  been 
of  irreproachable  character.  He  and  his  wife — 
far  gone  with  child — were  destitute  of  money, 
clothes,  and  food.  He  said  to  his  wife,  ''  My 
dear,  I  will  go  out,  down  to  the  quays;  it  may 
be  that  the  Lord  will  provide  me  with  a  loaf  of 
bread."  All  his  efforts  were  fruitless,  but  pass- 
ing through  Hoxton  Fields,  he  met  two  wash- 
erwomen. He  did  not  bid  them  stop,  but  he 
said  to  one,  *'  Mistress,  I  want  money."  She 
gave  him  twopence.  He  said  to  the  other, 
**  You  have  money,  I  know  you  have."  She 
said,  *'  I  have  fourpence."  He  took  that.  In- 
sensible of  what  might  follow,  as  of  what  he  had 
done,  he  walked  down  into  Old  Street  :  there, 
the  two  women  having  followed  him  gave  him 
in  charge  of  a  constable.  He  was  tried,  sen- 
tenced to  death,  and  for  this  he  died.  *' Never," 
says  Told,  **  through  the  years  I  have  attended 
the  prisoners,  have  I  seen  such  meek,  loving, 
patient  spirits  as  this  man  and  his  wife."  Told 
attended  him  to  execution,  and  sought  to  com- 
fort the  poor  fellow  by  promising  him  to  look 
after  his  wife;  and  most  tenderly  did  Told  and 
his  wife  redeem  the  promise,  for  they  took  her 


248  The  Great  Revival. 

for  a  short  time  into  their  own  home.  Told 
obtained  a  housekeeper's  situation  for  her,  and 
she  became  a  creditable  and  respected  woman. 
He  bound  her  daughter  apprentice  to  a  weaver, 
and  she,  probably,  turned  out  well,  although  he 
says,  ''I  have  never  seen  her  but  twice  since, 
which  is  many  years  ago." 

Our  readers  will,  perhaps,  think  that  it  is 
time  we  drew  these  harrowing  stories  to  a  close; 
but  there  are  many  more  of  them  in  this  brief, 
but  most  interesting,  although  forgotten  auto- 
biography. They  are  recited  with  much  pathos. 
We  have  the  story  of  Harris,  the  flying  high- 
wayman; of  Bolland,  a  sheriff's  officer,  who  was 
executed  for  forging  a  note,  although  he  had 
refunded  the  money,  and  twice  afterwards  paid 
the  sum  of  the  bill  to  secure  himself  A  young 
gentleman,  named  Slocomb,  defrauded  his 
father  of  three  hundred  pounds  ;  his  father 
would  not  in  anyway  stir,  or  remit  his  claim,  to 
save  him.  Told  attended  him  and  thought 
highly  of  him,  not  only  because  he  expressed 
himself  with  so  much  resignation,  but  because 
he  never  indulged  a  complaint  against  him 
whom  Told  calls  *'  that  lump  of  adamant,  his 
father."  With  him  was  executed  another  young 
gentleman,  named  Powell,  for  forgery.  Silas 
Told  also  attended  that  cruel  woman,  Elizabeth 
Brownrigg,  who  was  executed  for  the  atrocious 


Story  of  Silas   Told.  249 

murder  of  her  apprentices.  And  of  all  the 
malefactors  whom  he  attended  she  seems  to  us 
the  most  unsatisfactory. 

We  trust  our  readers  will  not  be  displeased 
to  receive  these  items  from  the  biography  of  a 
very  remarkable,  a  singularly  romantic  and 
chequered,  as  well  as  singularly  useful  career. 
References  to  Silas  Told  will  be  found  in  most 
of  the  biographies  of  Wesley.  Southey  passes 
him  by  with  a  very  slight  allusion.  Tyerman 
dwells  on  his  memory  with  a  little  more  tender- 
ness ;  but,  with  the  exception  of  Stevens,  none 
has  touched  with  real  interest  upon  this  extra- 
ordinary though  obscure  man,  and  his  romantic 
life  and  labours  in  a  very  strange  path  of  Chris- 
tian benevolence  and  usefulness.  He  was 
known,  far  and  near,  as  the  "prisoners'  chap- 
lain," although  an  unpaid  one.  He  closed  his  life 
in  1778,  in  the  sixty-eighth  year  of  his  age.  As 
we  have  seen,  John  Wesley  appropriately  offici- 
ated at  his  funeral,  and  pronounced  an  affection- 
ate encomium  over  the  remains  of  his  honoured 
old  friend  and  fellow-labourer. 


250  The  Great  Revival. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

MISSIONARY  SOCIETIES. 

Illustrating  what  we  have  said  before,  it 
remains  to  be  noticed,  that  nearly  all  the  great 
societies  sprang  into  existence  almost  simul- 
taneously. The  foremost  among  these,*  found- 
ed in  1792,  was  the  Baptist  Missionary  Society. 
It  appears  to  have  arisen  from  a  suggestion  of 
William  Carey,  the  celebrated  Northampton- 
shire shoemaker,  who  proposed  as  an  inquiry  to 
an  association  of  Northamptonshire  ministers, 
"  whether  it  were  not  practicable  and  obligatory 
to  attempt  the  conversion  of  the  heathen."  It 
is  certainly  still  a  moot  question  whether  Le 
Verrier  or  Adams  first  laid  the  hand  of  science 
on  the  planet  Neptune;  but  it  seems  quite»  cer- 
tain that,  when  one  of  God's  great  thoughts  is 
throbbing  in  the  heart  of  one  of  His  apostles, 
the    same    impulse     and    passion    is    stirring 

*  It  is  not  implied  that  these  were  the  first  modern  missionary 
agencies.  The  Moravians  had  already  sent  the  Gospel  into 
many  regions.  There  were  Swedish  and  Danish  Missionary 
Societies  also  at  work.  In  1649  a  Society  for  Promoting  and 
Propagating  the  Gospel  of  Jesus  Christ  in  New  England  had  been 
formed,  and  about  1697  the  "  Society  for  Promoting  Christian 
Knowledge  "  and  the  '*  Society  for  the  Propagation  of  the  Gospel 
in  Foreign  Parts  ' '  were  established.    See  page  256  and  foot  note. 


^t  #nat  ^ebibal. 


William  Carey. 


p.  252. 


Missionary  Societies.  253 

another,  perhaps  others,  in  remote  and  far- 
away scenes.  Altogether  unknown  to  WilHam 
Carey,  that  same  year  the  great  Claudius 
Buchanan  was  dreaming  his  divine  dreams 
about  the  conquest  of  India  for  Christ,  in  St. 
Mary's  College,  Cambridge."^  Undoubtedly  the 
honour  of  the  first  consolidation  of  the  thought 
into  a  missionary  enterprise  must  be  given  to 
William  Carey  and  his  little  band  of  obscure 
believers. 

At  the  close  of  Carey's  address,  to  which  we 
have  referred,  a  collection  was  made  for  the 
purpose  of  attempting  a  missionary  crusade 
upon  Hindostan,  amounting  to  £\'^  2s.  6d.= 
$65.60.  The  wits  made  fine  work  of  this  :  the 
reader  may  still  turn  to  Sydney  Smith's  paper 
in  the  Edinburgh  Review^  in  which  the  idea 
and  the  effort  are  satirised  as  that  of  '*  an  army 
of  maniacs  setting  forth  to  the  conquest  of 
India."  But  this  humble  effort  resulted  in 
magnificent  achievements  ;  Carey  and  his  illus- 
trious coadjutors.  Ward  and  Marshman,  set 
forth,  and  became  stupendous  Oriental  schol- 
ars, translating  the  Word  of  Life  into  many 
Indian  dialects.  Then  came  tempests  of  abuse 
and  scurrility  at  home  from  eminent  pens.  We 
experience  a  shame  in  reading  them;  but  it 
shows  the  catholicity  of  spirit  pervading  the 
minds   of    Christ's   real    followers,    that    Lord 

*  See  Appendix. 


254  1^^^  Great  Revival. 

Teignmouth,  and  William  Wilberforce,  and  Dr. 
Buchanan,  were  amongst  the  ablest  and  most 
earnest  defenders  of  the  noble  Baptist  mission- 
aries. We  are  able  to  see  now  that  this  mis- 
sion may  be  said  to  have  saved  India  to  the 
British  Empire.  It  not  only  created  the 
scholars  to  whom  we  have  referred,  and  the 
bands  of  holy  labourers,  but  also  the  sagacity 
of  Lord  Lawrence,  and  the  consecrated  courage 
of  Sir  Henry  Havelock.  We  are  prepared, 
therefore,  to  maintain  that  England  is  indebted 
more  to  William  Carey  and  his  £1}^  2s.  6d.  than 
to  the  cunning  of  Clive  and  the  rapacity  of 
Warren  Hastings. 

Another  child  of  the  Revival  was  born  in 
1795 — the  London  Missionary  Society.  But  it 
would  be  idle  to  attempt  to  enumerate  the 
names  either  of  its  founders,  its  missionaries,  or 
their  fields  of  labour  ;  let  the  reader  turn  to  the 
names  of  the  founders,  and  he  will  find  they 
were  nearly  all  enthusiasts  who  had  been  bap- 
tised into  the  spirit  of  the  Revival — Rowland 
Hill,  Matthew  Wilks,  Alexander  Waugh,  Wil- 
liam Kingsbury,  and,  notably,  Thomas  Haweis, 
the  Rector  of  Aldwinckle  and  chaplain  to  the 
Countess  of  Huntingdon.  Nor  must  we  omit 
the  name  of  David  Bogue,*that  strong  and  elo- 
quent intelligence,  whose  admirable  and  sug- 
gestive work  on   The  Divine  Authority  of  the 

*  See  Appendix. 


Missionary  Societies.  255 

New  Testament^  sent  to  Napoleon  in  his  exile 
at  St.  Helena  by  the  Viscountess  Duncan,  was, 
after  the  Emperor's  death,  returned  to  the 
author  full  of  annotations,  thus  seeming  to 
give  some  clue  to  those  religious  conversations, 
in  which  the  illustrious  exile  certainly  astonishes 
us,  not  long  before  his  departure. 

It  is  the  London  Missionary  Society  which 
has  covered  the  largest  surface  of  the  earth 
with  its  missions,  and  it  is  not  invidious  to  say 
that  its  records  register  a  larger  range  of  con- 
quests over  heathenism  and  idolatry  than  could 
be  chronicled  in  any  age  since  the  first  apostles 
went  upon  their  way.  We  have  only  to  remem- 
ber the  Sandwich  Islands,*  and  the  crowds  of 
islands  in  the  Southern  Seas,  with  their  chief 
civiliser,  the  martyr  of  Erromanga;  Africa,  from 
the  Cape  along  through  the  deep  interior,  with 
Moffatt  and  Livingstone,  whose  celebrated 
motto  was,  ^'  The  end  of  the  geographical  feat 
is  the  beginning  of  the  missionary  enterprise  ;" 
China  and  Robert  Morison ;  Madagascar  and 
William  Ellis,  and  many  other  regions  and 
names  to  justify  our  verdict. 

In  1799  the  Church  Missionary  Society  came 
into  existence.     *'What!"  said  the  passionate 

[*  The  civilisation  and  Christian  character  of  these  Islands  is 
largely  due  to  the  labours  of  the  missionaries  of  the  American 
Board  of  Commissioners  for  Foreign  Missions. — Ed.] 


256  The  Great  Revival, 

and  earnest  Rev.  Melville  Home,  in  attempt- 
ing to  arouse  the  clergy  to  missionary  enthusi- 
asm ;  ''have  Carey  and  the  Baptists  had  more 
forgiven  than  we,  that  they  should  love  more  ? 
Have  the  fervent  Methodists  and  patient 
Moravians  been  extortionate  publicans,  that 
they  should  expend  their  all  in  a  cause  which 
we  decline  ?  Have  our  Independent  brethren 
persecuted  the  Church  more,  that  they  should 
now  be  more  zealous  in  propagating  the  faith 
which  it  once  destroyed  ?"  And  so  the  Church 
Missionary  Society  arose  ;  and  in  1804,  the 
Bible  Society;  in  1805,  the  British  and  Foreign 
School  Society  ;  in  1799,  the  Religious  Tract 
Society,  which,  since  its  foundation,  has  prob- 
ably circulated  not  less  than  five  hundred  mil- 
lions of  publications.  The  Wesleyan  Mission- 
ary Society — which  claims  in  date  to  take  pre- 
cedence of  all  in  its  foundation  in  the  year  1769 
— was    not    formally    constituted    till     18 17.* 

[*The  great  missionary  organizations  of  America  belong  to 
the  early  part  of  this  century.  The  First  day  or  Sunday-school 
Society  was  formed  in  1791  ;  the  American  Board  of  Commis- 
sioners for  Foreign  Missions  in  1810 ;  the  American  Baptist 
Missionary  Union  in  1814 ;  Methodist  Episcopal  Missionary 
Society  in  1819  ;  the  Philadelphia  Adult  and  Sunday-school 
Union  (which,  in  1824,  was  merged  in  the  American  Sunday- 
school  Union)  in  181 7  ;  the  Protestant  Episcopal  Board  of  Mis- 
sions in  1 82 1.  Of  Continental  Societies,  the  Moravian  Missionary 
Society  was  formed  in  1732  ;  the  Netherlands  Missionary  Society 
in  1797;  the  Basle  Evangelical  Mission  irf  1816.  Appendix. — Ed.] 


Missionary  Societies.  257 

Every  one  of  these,  and  many  other  such  asso- 
ciations, alike  show  the  vivid  and  vigorous 
spirit  which  was  abroad  seeking  to  secure  the 
empire  of  the  world  to  the  cause  of  Divine  truth 
and  love. 

And,  meantime,  what  works  were  going  on 
at  home  ?  Education  and  intelligence  were 
widely  spreading;  simple  academies  were  form- 
ing, like  that  founded  by  the  Countess  of 
Huntingdon  at  Trevecca,  where  the  minds  of 
young  men  were  being  moulded  and  informed 
to  become  the  intelligent  vehicles  of  the  Gos- 
pel message — eminently  that  of  the  great  and 
good  Cornelius  Winter,  in  Gloucestershire;  and 
that  of  David  Bogue  at  Gosport  ;  while,  in  the 
north  of  England,  arose  the  small  but  very 
effective  colleges  of  Bradford  and  Rotherham  ; 
and  the  now  handsome  Lancashire  Independ- 
ent College  had  its  origin  in  the  vestry  of 
Mosley  Street  Chapel,  where  the  sainted 
William  Roby,  as  tutor,  gathered  around  him 
a  number  of  young  men,  and  armed  them  with 
intellectual  appliances  for  the  work  of  the  min- 
istry. 

Some  of  the  earliest  efforts  of  Methodism, 
and  some  of  the  most  successful,  had  been  in 
the-gaols,  and  among  the  malefactors  of  the 
country — notably  in  the  wonderful  labours  of 
Silas  Told,  whose  extraordinary  story  has  been 


258  The  Great  Revival. 

recited  in  these  pages.  Silas  passed  away,  but 
an  angel  of  light  moved  through  the  cells  of 
Newgate  in  the  person  of  Elizabeth  Fry,  as 
beautiful  and  commanding  in  her  presence  as 
she  was  holy  in  her  sweet  and  fervid  zeal.  Now 
began  thoughts  too  about  the  waifs  and  strays 
of  the  population — the  helpless  and  forgotten  ; 
and  John  Townshend,  an  Independent  minis- 
ter, laid  the  foundation  of  the  first  Deaf  and 
Dumb  Asylum,  the  noble  institution  of  London. 

In  the  world  of  politics,  also,  the  men  of  the 
Revival  were  exercising  their  influence,  and 
procuring  charters  of  freedom  for  the  mind  of 
the  nation.  Has  it  not  been  ever  true  that  civil 
and  religious  liberty  have  flourished  side  by 
side  }  A  blight  cannot  pass  over  one  without 
withering  the  other.  The  honour  of  the  Repeal 
of  the  Test  and  Corporation  Acts  is  due  to  the 
Great  Revival :  the  Toleration  Act  of  those 
days  was  really  more  oppressive  on  pious  mem- 
bers of  the  Church  of  England  than  on  Dissent- 
ers; they  could  not  obtain,  as  Dissenters  could, 
a  licence  for  holding  religious  services  in  their 
houses,  because  they  were  members  of  the 
Church  of  England. 

William  Wilberforce  owed  his  first  religious 
impressions  to  the  preaching  of  Whitefield  ; 
with  all  his  fine  liberality  of  heart,  he  became 
an  ardent  member  of  the  communion  of  the 


Missionary  Societies.  259 

Church  of  England.  It  seems  incredible  to 
us  now  that  he  lived  constantly  in  the  expecta- 
tion— we  will  not  say  fear — of  indictments 
against  him,  for  holding  prayer-meetings  and 
religious  services  at  his  house  in  Kensington 
Gore.  Lord  Barham,  the  father  of  the  late  ami- 
able and  excellent  Baptist  Noel,  was  fined  forty 
pounds,  on  two  informations  of  his  neighbour, 
the  Earl  of  Romney,  for  a  breach  of  the  statute 
in  like  services.  That  such  a  state  of  things 
as  this  was  changed  to  the  free  and  happy  or- 
dinances now  in  force,  was  owing  to  the  spirit 
which  was  abroad,  giving  not  only  freedom  to 
the  soul  of  the  man,  but  dignity  and  independ- 
ence to  the  social  life  of  the  citizen.  Every- 
where, and  in  every  department  of  life,  the 
spirit  of  the  Revival  moved  over  the  face  of  the 
waters,  dividing  the  light  from  the  darkness, 
and  thus  God  said,  '*  Let  there  be  light,  and 
there  was  light." 


26o  The  Great  Revival, 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

AFTERMATH. 

The  effects  of  that  great  awakening  which 
we  have  thus  attempted  concisely,  but  fairly, 
to  delineate,  are  with  us  still ;  the  strength  is 
diffused,  the  tone  and  colour  are  modified.  One 
chief  purpose  has  guided  the  pen  of  the  writer 
throughout  :  it  has  been  to  show  that  the  im- 
mense regeneration  effected  in  English  manners 
and  society  during  the  later  years  of  the  last 
century  and  the  first  of  the  present,  was  the 
result  of  a  secret,  silent,  most  subtle  spiritual 
force,  awakening  the  minds  and  hearts  of  men 
in  most  opposite  parts  of  the  nation,  and  in 
widely  different  social  circumstances.  We 
would  give  all  honour  where  honour  is  due,  re- 
membering that  '■'  Every  good  gift  and  every 
perfect  gift  is  from  above."  There  are  writers 
whose  special  admiration  is  given  to  some 
favourite  sect,  some  effective  movement,  or 
some  especially  beloved  name  ;  but  a  dispas- 
sionate view,  an  entrance — if  we  may  be  per- 
mitted so  to  speak  of  it — into  the  camera,  the 
chamber  of  the  times,   presents  to  the  eye  a 


Aftermath.  26 1 

long  succession  of  actors,  and  brings  out  into 
the  clear  light  a  wonderful  variety  of  influences 
all  simultaneously  at  work  to  redeem  society 
from  its  darkness,  and  to  give  it  a  higher  degree 
of  spiritual  purity  and  mental  and  moral  dig- 
nity. 

The  first  great  workers  were  passing  away, 
most  of  them,  as  is  usually  the  case,  dying  on 
Pisgah,  seeing  most  distinctly  the  future  results 
of  their  work,  but  scarcely  permitted  to  enter 
upon  the  full  realisation  of  it.  In  1791,  in  the 
eighty-fourth  year  of  her  age,  died  the  revered 
Countess  of  Huntingdon  ;  her  last  words,  '*  My 
work  is  done  ;  I  have  nothing  to  do  but  to  go 
to  my  Father  !"  No  chronicle  of  convent  or  of 
canonisation,  nor  any  story  of  biography,  can 
record  a  more  simple,  saintly,  and  utterly  un- 
selfish life.  To  the  last  unwearied,  she  was 
daily  occupied  in  writing  long  letters,  arranging 
for  her  many  ministers,  disposing  of  her  chapel 
trusts  ;  sometimes  feeling  that  her  rank,  and 
certain  suppositions  as  to  the  extent  of  her 
wealth,  made  her  an  object  upon  which  men 
were  not  indisposed  to  exercise  their  rapacity. 
Still,  as  compared  with  the  state  of  society 
when  she  commenced  her  work,  in  this  her 
closing  year,  she  must  have  looked  over  a  hope- 
ful and  promising  future,  as  sweet  and  enchant- 
ing as  the  ineffably  lovely  scenery  upon  which 


262 


The  Great  Revival. 


her  eyes  opened  at  Castle  Doddington,  and  the 
neighbouring  beauties  of  her  first  wedded  home. 
In  1791,  John  Wesley,  in  his  eighty-eighth 
year,  entered  into  his  rest,  faithfully  murmuring, 
as  well  as  weakness  and  stammering  lips  could 


JOHN  WESLEY'S  TOMB,  CITY  ROAD,    LONDON. 

articulate,  ''  The  best  of  all  is,  God  is  with  us  !" 
Abel  Stevens  says,  ''  His  life  stands  out  in  the 
history  of  the  world,  unquestionably  pre-emin- 
ent in  religious  labours  above  that  of  any  other 
man  since  the  apostolic  age."     It  is  not  neces- 


^\)t  (Srrai  ^efaifaal. 


The  Wesley  Monument. 


p.  264. 


Aftermath.  265 

sary,  in  order  to  do  Wesley  sufficient  honour, 
to  indulge  in  such  invidious  comparisons.  It  is 
significant,  however,-  that  the  last  straggling 
syllables  which  ever  fell  from  the  pen  in  his 
beloved  hand,  were  in  a  letter  to  William  Wil- 
berforce,  cheering  him  on  in  his  efforts  for 
the  abolition  of  slavery  and  the  slave  trade. 
Charles  Wesley  had  preceded  his  brother  to  his 
rest  in  1788,  in  the  eightieth  year  of  his  age. 

Thus  the  earlier  labourers  were  passing  away, 
and  the  work  of  the  Revival  was  passing  into 
other  forms,  illustrating  how  not  only  '*  one 
generation  passeth  away,  and  another  cometh," 
but  also  how,  as  the  workers  pass,  the  work 
abides.  It  would  be  very  pleasant  to  spend 
some  time  in  noticing  the  interior  of  many  old 
halls,  which  were  now  opening,  at  once  for  the 
entertainment  of  evangelists,  and  for  Divine 
service  ;  prejudices  were  dying  out,  and  so  far 
from  the  new  religious  life  proving  inimical  to 
the  repose  of  the  country,  it  was  found  to  be 
probably  its  surest  security  and  friend  ;  and 
while  the  efforts  were  growing  for  carrying  to 
far-distant  regions  the  truth  which  enlightens 
and  saves,  anecdotes  are  not  wanting  to  show 
that  it  was  this  very  spirit  which  created  a 
tender  interest  in  maintaining  and  devising 
means  to  make  more  secure  the  minister's  hap- 
piness at  home. 


266  The  Great  Revival. 

From  many  points  of  view  William  Wilber- 
force  may  be  regarded  as  the  central  man  of 
the  Revival  in  its  new  and  crowning  aspect;  as 
he  bore  the  standard  of  England  at  that  great 
funeral  which  did  honour  to  all  that  was  mortal 
of  his  friend  William  Pitt,  on  its  way  to  the 
vaults  of  the  old  Abbey,  so,  as  his  predecessors 
departed,  it  devolved  on  him  to  bear  the  stand- 
ard of  those  truths  and  principles  which  had 
effected  the  great  change,  and  which  were  to 
effect,  if  possible,  yet  greater  changes.  By  his 
sweet,  winning,  and  if  silvery,  yet  enchaining 
and  overwhelming  eloquence,  by  his  conver- 
sation, which  cannot  have  been,  from  the  tra- 
ditions which  are  preserved  of  it,  less  than 
wonderful,  and  by  his  lucid  and  practical  pen, 
he  continued  to  give  eminent  effect  to  the  Re- 
vival, and  to  procure  for  its  doctrines  accept- 
ance in  the  highest  circles  of  society.  It  is 
perhaps  difficult  now  to  understand  the  cause  of 
the  wonderful  influence  produced  by  his  Prac- 
tical View  of  Christianity ;  that  book  itself 
illustrates  how  the  seeds  of  things  are  trans- 
mitted through  many  generations.  It  is  a  long 
way  to  look  back  to  the  poor  pedlar  who  called 
at  the  farm  door  of  Richard  Baxter's  father  in 
Eaton-Constantine,  and  sold  there  Richard 
Sibbs's  Bruised  Reed,  but  that  was  the  birth- 
hour  of  that  great  and  transcendently  glorious 


Aftermath.  267 

book,  The  Saint's  Everlasting  Rest.  The  Saint's 
Everlasting  Rest  was  the  inspiration  of  Philip 
Doddridge,  and  to  it  we  owe  his  Rise  a7id  Pro- 
gress of  Religion  in  tJie  Soul.  Wilberforce  read 
that  book,  and  it  moved  him  to  the  desire  to 
speak  out  its  earnestness,  pathos,  and  solemnity 
in  tones  suitable  to  the  spirit  of  the  Great  Re- 
vival which  had  been  going  on  around  him.  A 
young  clergyman  read  the  result  of  Wilber- 
force's  wish  in  his  Practical  View  of  Christianity ^ 
and  he  testifies,  ''  To  that  book  I  owe  a  debt  of 
gratitude;  to  my  unsought  and  unexpected  in- 
troduction to  it,  I  owe  the  first  sacred  impres- 
sions which  I  ever  received  as  to  the  spiritual 
nature  of  the  Gospel  system,  the  vital  character 
of  personal  religion,  the  corruption  of  the  hu- 
man heart,  and  the  way  of  salvation  by  Jesus 
Christ."  And  all  this  was  very  shortly  given 
to  the  world  in  those  beautiful  pieces,  which  it 
surely  must  be  ever  a  pleasure  to  read,  whether 
for  their  tender  delineation  of  the  most  import- 
ant truths,  or  the  exquisite  language,  and  the 
delightful  charm  of  natural  scenery  and  pathetic 
reflection  in  which  the  experiences  of  The 
Young  Cottager^  The  Dairyman  s  D aug liter y  and 
other  *'  short  and  simple  annals  of  the  poor," 
are  conveyed  through  the  fascinating  pen  of 
Legh  Richmond. 

In  this  eminently  lovely  and  lovable  life  we 


268  The  Great  Revival. 

meet  with  one  on  whom,  assuredly,  the  mantle 
of  the  old  clerical  fathers  of  the  Revival  had 
fallen.  He  was  a  Churchman  and  a  clergyman, 
he  loved  and  honoured  his  Church  and  its  ser- 
vices exceedingly;  but  it  seems  impossible  to 
detect,  in  any  single  act  of  his  life  or  word  of 
his  writings,,  a  tinge  of  acerbity  or  bitterness. 
The  quiet  and  mellowed  charm  of  his  tracts — 
which  are  certainly  among  the  finest  pieces  of 
writing  in  that  way  which  we  possess — appear 
to  have  pervaded  his  whole  life.  Brading,  in 
the  Isle  of  Wight,  has  been  marvellously  trans- 
formed since  he  was  the  vicar  of  its  simple  little 
church;  the  old  parsonage,  where  little  Jane 
talked  with  her  pastor,  is  now  only  a  memory, 
and  no  longer,  as  we  saw  it  first  many  years 
since,  a  feature  in  the  charming  landscape;  and 
the  little  epitaphs  which  the  vicar  himself  wrote 
for  the  stones,  or  wooden  memorials  over  the 
graves  of  his  parishioners,  are  all  obliterated  by 
time.  Several  years  since  we  sought  in  vain 
for  the  sweet  verse  on  his  own  infant  daughter, 
although  about  thirty-five  years  since  we  read 
it  there: 

"  This  early  bud,  so  young  and  fair. 
Called  hence  by  early  doom, 
Just  came  to  show  how  sweet  a  flower 
In  Paradise  should  bloom." 

But  these  little  papers  of  this  excellent  man 


Aftermath.  269 

circulated  wherever  the  English  language  was 
spoken  or  read,  and  the  spirit  of  their  pages  pene- 
trated farther  than  the  pages  themselves;  while 
they  seem  to  present  in  a  more  pleasant,  win- 
ning and  portable  form  the  spirit  of  the  Revival, 
divested  of  much  of  the  ruggedness  which  had, 
naturally,  characterized  its  earlier  pens. 

Indeed,  if  some  generalisation  were  needed 
to  express  the  phase  into  which  the  Revival 
was  passing,  at  this,  the  earlier  part  of  the 
present  century,  it  should  be  called  the  *'  liter- 
ary." Eminent  names  were  appearing,  and 
eminent  pens,  to  gather  up  the  elements  of 
faith  which  had  jnoved  the  minds  and  tongues 
of  men  in  past  years,  and  to  arrest  the  con- 
science through  the  eye.  This  opens  up  a  field 
so  large  that  we  cannot  do  justice  to  it  in  these 
brief  sketches.  To  name  here  only  one  other 
writer  ;^-Thomas  Scott,  the  commentator  on 
the  Bible,  and  author  of  The  Force  of  Truth, 
is  acknowledged  to  have  exerted  an  influence 
the  greatness  of  which  has  been  described  in 
glowing  terms  by  men  such  as  Sir  James 
Stephen  and  John  Henry  Newman. 

No  idea  can  be  formed  by  those  of  the  pres- 
ent generation  of  the  immense  influence  Charles 
Simeon  exercised  over  the  mind  of  the  Church 
of  England.  He  was  the  leader  of  the  grow- 
ing   evangelical    party    in    the    Church  ;    his 


270  The  Great  Revival. 

doctrines  were  exactly  those  which  had  been 
the  favourite  on  the  Hps  of  Whitefield,  Berridge, 
Grimshaw,  and  Newton.  His  family  was  an- 
cient and  respectable,  he  was  the  son  of  a  Berk- 
shire squire.  He  had  been  educated  at  Eton, 
and  afterwards  at  King's  College,  Cambridge  ; 
he  became  very  wealthy.  His  accession  to  the 
life  of  the   Revival   seemed   like  an  immense 


CHARLES   SIMEON. 

addition  of  natural  influence  :  he  was  faithful 
and  earnest,  and,  in  the  habits  of  his  mind  and 
character,  exactly  what  we  understand  by  the 
thorough  English  gentleman;  almost  may  it  be 
said  that  he  made  the  Revival  "gentlemanly" 
in  clergymen.  He  opened  the  course  of  his 
fifty-six  years'  ministry  in  Cambridge  amidst  a 
storm    of   persecution  ;    the     church-wardens 


Aftermath.  27 1 

attempted  to  crush  him,  the  pews  of  his  church 
were  locked  up,  and  he  was  even  locked  out  of 
the  building.  Through  all  this  he  passed,  and 
he  became,  for  the  greater  part  of  the  long 
period  we  have  mentioned,  the  most  noted 
preacher  of  his  town  and  university ;  and  he 
published,  certainly,  in  his  Horce  HoinileticcB  a 
greater  number  of  attempts  at  opening  texts 
in  the  form  of  sermons,  than  had  ever  been 
given  to  the  world.  Simeon  devoted  his  own 
fortune  and  means  for  the  purchase  of  advow- 
sons,  in  order  that  the  pulpits  of  churches  might 
be  filled  by  the  representatives  of  his  own  opin- 
ions. No  history  of  the  Revival  can  be 
complete  without  noticing  this  phase,  which 
scattered  over  England,  far  more  extensively 
than  can  be  here  described,  a  new  order  of 
clergyman,  who  have  maintained  in  their  circles 
evangelical  truth,  and  have  held  no  inconsider- 
able sway  over  the  mind  of  the  country. 

We  only  know  history  through  men  ;  events 
are  only  possible  through  men,  of  whose  mind 
and  activity  they  are  the  manifestation.  This 
brief  succession  of  sketches  has  been  very  great- 
ly a  series  of  portraits  standing  out  prominently 
from  the  scenery  to  which  the  character  gave 
effect;  but  of  this  singular,  almost  simultaneous 
movement,  how  much  has  been  left  unrecord- 
ed !     It  remains  unquestionably  true  that  no 


272  The  Great  Revival. 

adequate  and  perfectly  impartial  review  of  the 
Revival  has  ever  yet  been  written. 

The  story  of  the  Revival  in  Wales,  what  it 
found  there,  and  what  it  effected,  is  one  of  its 
most  interesting  chapters.  How  deep  was  the 
slumber  when,  about  1735-37,  Howell  Harris 
began  to  traverse  the  Principality,  exhorting 
his  neighbours  concerning  the  interests  of  their 
souls  !  another  illustration  that  it  was  not  from 
one  single  spring  that  the  streams  of  the  Re- 
vival poured  over  the  land.  It  was  rather  like 
some  great  mountain,  such  as  Plinlimmon, 
from  whose  high  centre,  elevated  among  the 
clouds,  leap  forth  five  rivers,  meandering  among 
the  rocks  in  their  brook-like  way,  until  at  last 
they  pour  themselves  along  the  lowlands  in 
broad  and  even  magnificent  streams,  either 
uniting  as  the  Severn  and  the  Wye,  or  finding 
their  separate  way  to  the  ocean.  Whitefield 
found  his  way  to  Wales,  but  Howell  Harris  was 
already  pouring  out  his  consecrated  life  there  ; 
to  his  assistance  came  the  voice  of  Rowlands, 
"  the  thunderer,"  as  he  was  called.  Scientific 
sermon-makers  would  say  that  Harris  was  no 
great  preacher;  but  he  has  been  described  as 
the  most  successful  and  wonderful  one  who 
ever  ascended  pulpit  or  platform  in  the  Princi- 
pality. By  the  mingling  of  his  tears  and  his 
terrors,  in   seven  years   he  roused   the  whole 


grbc  (ferent  IRcbibal. 


:'Lr^ 


Boston  Elin. 


p.  274. 


Aftermath,  275 

country  from  one  end  to  the  other,  north  and 
south  ;  communicating  the  impulse  of  his  zeal 
to  many  like-minded  men,  by  whose  impas- 
sioned words  and  indefatigable  labours  the 
work  was  continued  with  signal  and  lasting  re- 
sults* 

If  the  first  throbbings  of  the  coming  Revival 
were  felt  in  Northampton,  in  America,  in  1734, 
beneath  the  truly  awful  words  of  the  great 
Jonathan  Edwards,  it  was  from  England  it  de- 
rived its  sustenance,  and  assumed  organisation 
and  shape.  The  Boston  Elm,  a  venerable  tree 
near  the  centre  of  Boston  Park,  or  common, 
whose  decayed  limbs  are  still  held  together  by 
clamps  or  rivets  of  iron,  while  a  railing  defends 
it  from  rude  hands,  is  an  object  as  sacred  to  the 
traditions  of  Methodism  in  the  United  States, 
as  is  Gwennap  Pit  to  those  of  Methodism  in 
Western  England.  There  Jesse  Lee,  the  first 
founder  of  Methodism  in  New  England,  com- 
menced the  work  in  1790,  which  has  issued  in 
an  organisation  even  more  extensive  and  gi- 
gantic than  that  which  is  associated  with  the 
Conference  in  England.  As  the  United  States 
have  inherited  from  the  mother  country  their 
language,  their  literature,  and  their  principles 
of  law,  so  also  those  great  agitations  of  spir- 

*  See  a  series  of  papers  on  "  Welsh  Preaching  and  Preachers" 
in  the  Sunday  at  Home^  for  1876. 


276  The  Great  Revival, 

itual  life  to  which  we  have  concisely  referred, 
crossed  the  Atlantic,  and  spread  themselves 
with  power  there.* 

It  is  not  within  our  province  to  attempt  to 
enumerate  all  the  sects,  each  with  its  larger  or 
lesser  proportion  of  spiritual  power,  religious 
activity,  and  general  acceptance  among  the 
people,  to  which  the  Revival  gave  birth; — such 
as  the  large  body  of  the  Bible  Christians  of  the 
West  of  England;  the  Primitive  Methodists  of 
the  North,  those  who  called  themselves  the 
New  Connection  Methodists,  or  the  United 
Free  Church  Association.  All  these,  and 
others,  are  branches  from  the  great  central 
stem.  Neither  is  it  in  our  province  to  notice 
how  the  same  universal  agitation  of  religious 
feeling,  at  exactly  the  same  time,  gave  birth  to 
other  forms,  not  regarded  with  so  much  com- 
placency;— such  as  the  rugged  and  faulty  faith 
and  following  of  that  curious  creature,  William 
Huntington,  who,  singular  to  say,  found  also 
his  best  biographer  in  Robert  Southey;  or  the 
strangely  multifarious  works  and  rationalistic 
development  of  Baron  Swedenborg, which  have, 
at  least,  the  merit  of  giving  a  more  spiritual 
rendering  to  the  Christian  system  than  that 
which  was  found  in  the  prevalent  Arianism  of 

*  See  Chapter  XIV.,  The  Revival  in  the  New  World. 


Aftermath.  277 

the  period  of  their  publication.  Turn  wherever 
we  may,  it  is  the  same.  There  was  a  deeper 
upheaving  of  the  religious  life,  and  far  more 
widely  spread,  than  perhaps  any  age  of  the 
world  since  the  time  of  the  apostles  had  known 
before. 

A  change  passed  over  the  whole  of  English 
society.  That  social  state  which  we  find  de- 
scribed in  the  pages  of  Fielding  and  Smollett, 
and  less  respectable  writers,  passed  away,  and 
passed  away,  we  trust,  for  ever.  The  language 
of  impurity  indulged  with  freedom  by  the  dram- 
atists of  the  period  when  the  Revival  arose, 
and  read,  and  read  aloud,  by  ladies  and  young 
girls  in  drawing-rooms,  or  by  parlour  firesides, 
became  shameful  and  dishonoured.  In  the 
course  of  fifty  years,  society,  if  not  entirely 
purged — for  when  may  we  hope  for  that  bless- 
edness } — was  purified.  A  sense  of  religious 
decorum,  and  some  idea  of  religious  duty,  took 
possession  of  homes  and  minds  which  were  not 
at  all  impressed,  either  by  the  doctrines  or  the 
discipline  of  Methodism.  All  this  arose  from 
the  new  life  which  had  been  created. 

It  was  a  fruitful  soil  upon  which  the  revival- 
ists worked.  There  was  a  reverence  for  the 
Bible  as  the  word  of  God,  a  faith  often  held 
very  ignorantly,  but  it  pervaded  the  land.  The 
Book  was  there  in  every  parish  church,  and  in 


278  The  Great  Revival. 

every  hamlet ;  it  became  a  kind  of  nexus  of 
union  for  true  minds  when  they  felt  the  power 
of  Divine  principles.  Thus,  when,  as  the  Re- 
vival strengthened  itself,  the  great  Evangelic 
party — a  term  which  seems  to  us  less  open  to 
exception  than  ''  the  Methodist  party,"  because 
far  more  inclusive — met  with  the  members  of 
the  Society  of  Friends,  they  found  that,  with 
some  substantial  differences,  they  had  principles 
in  common.  The  Quakers  had  been  long  in 
the  land,  but  excepting  in  their  own  persons — 
and  they  were  few  in  number — they  had  not 
given  much  effect  to  their  principles.  Method- 
ism roused  the  country  ;  Quakerism,  wilh  its 
more  quiet  thought,  gave  suggestions,  plans, 
largely  supplied  money.  The  great  works 
which  these  two  have  since  unitedly  accom- 
plished of  educating  the  nation,  and  shaking 
off  the  chain  of  the  slave  abroad,  neither  could 
have  accomplished  singly ;  the  conscience  of 
the  country  was  prepared  by  Evangelic  senti- 
ment. In  taking  up  and  working  out  the  great 
ideas  of  the  Revival,  we  have  never  been 
indifferent  to  the  share  due  to  members  of  the 
Society  of  Friends.  We  have  already  spoken 
of  Elizabeth  Fry,  to  whom  many  of  the  princes 
of  Europe  in  turn  paid  honour,  to  whom  with 
singular  simplicity  they  listened  as  they  heard 
her  preach.     There  are  many  names  on  which 


Aftermath.  279 

we  should  like  a  little  to  dwell ;  missionaries  as 
arduous  and  earnest  as  any  we  have  mentioned, 
such  as  Stephen  Grellet,  Thomas  Shillitoe,  and 
Thomas  Chalkley.  But  this  would  enter  into 
a  larger  plan  than  we  dare  to  entertain.  Our 
object  now  is  only  to  say,  how  greatly  other 
nations,  and  the  world  at  large,  have  benefited 
by  the  awakening  the  conscience,  the  setting 
free  the  mind,  the  education  of  the  character, 
by  bringing  all  into  immediate  contact  with 
the  Word  of  God  and  the  truth  which  it  unveils. 
Situated  as  we  are  now,  amidst  the  move- 
ments and  agitations  of  uncertain  seas  of 
thought,  wondering  as  to  the  future,  with 
strong  adjurations  on  every  hand  to  renounce 
the  Word  of  Life,  and  to  trust  ourselves  to  the 
filmy  rationalism  of  modern  speculation  ;  while 
we  feel  that  for  the  future,  and  for  those  seas 
over  which  we  look  there  are  no  tide-tables,  we 
may,  at  least,  safely  affirm  this,  that  the  Bible 
carries  us  beyond  the  highest  water-mark ; 
that,  as  societies  have  constructed  themselves 
out  of  its  principles  they  have  built  safely,  not 
only  for  eternal  hope,  but  for  human  and  social 
happiness  also  ;  and  we  may  safely  ask  human 
thought — which,  unaided  and  unenlightened 
by  revelation,  has  had  a  pretty  fair  field  for  the 
exercise  and  display  of  its  power  in  the  history 
of  the  world — to  show  to  us  a  single  chapter  in 


28o  The  Great  Revival. 

all  the  ages  of  its  history,  which  has  effected  so 
much  for  human,  spiritual,  intellectual,  and 
social  well-being,  as  that  which  records  the  re- 
sults of  the  Great  Revival  of  the  Last  Cen- 
tury. 


The  Revival  in  the  New  World.         281 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE  REVIVAL  IN  THE  NEW  WORLD. 

[BY  THE   EDITOR.] 

The  labours  of  Whitefield  had  a  remarkable 
influence  upon  the  extension  of  the  Great  Re- 
vival in  the  colonies  of  America.  In  these 
days  of  mammoth  steamships  and  rapid  rail- 
ways, equipped  with  drawing-room  coaches, 
travelling  has  become  a  pleasant  pastime  ;  but 
a  century  and  a  half  ago,  when  the  sailing 
vessel  and  the  old  lumbering  stage-coach  were 
the  most  rapid  and  the  chief  means  of  public 
conveyance,  and  when  these  were  often  uncer- 
tain and  irregular,  subjecting  the  traveller  to 
frequent  and  annoying  delays,  if  not  disap- 
pointments, it  must  have  been  a  formidable 
undertaking  to  cross  the  Atlantic  and  to  jour- 
ney through  a  new  country,  almost  a  wilder- 
ness, such  long  distances  as  from  Georgia  to 
Massachusetts.  Yet  Whitefield,  with  a  zeal 
and  a  holy  desire  in  *'  hunting  for  souls,"  made 
seven  visits  to  America,  crossing  the  ocean  in 
sailing-vessels  thirteen  times  (''one  voyage 
lasting   eleven  weeks"),    and   travelled  on  his 


282  The  Great  Revival. 

preaching  tours  almost  constantly.  In  one  of 
these  visits  he  went  upwards  of  i,ioo  miles 
through  this  then  sparsely  settled  country,  and 
endured  hardships  and  exposures  from  which  a 
far  stronger  and  more  vigorous  constitution 
might  well  shrink. 

As  in  England,  so  in  the  American  colonies, 
the  decay  of  vital  godliness  which  preceded 
the  great  awakening  had  been  long  and  deep. 
It  began  in  the  latter  part  of  the  17th  century, 
and  its  progress  was  observed  with  alarm  by 
many  of  the  notable  and  godly  men  of  the  day. 
Governor  Stoughton,  previous  to  resigning  the 
pulpit  for  the  bench,  proclaimed,  at  Boston, 
that  *'  many  had  become  like  Joash  after  the 
death  of  Jehoiada — rotten,  hypocritical,  and  a 
lie  !"  The  venerable  Torrey  of  Weymouth,  in 
a  sermon  before  the  legislature,  exclaimed, 
''There  is  already  a  great  dgath  upon  religion; 
little  more  left  than  a  name  to  live.  It  is  dying 
as  to  the  being  of  it,  by  the  general  failure  of 
the  work  of  conversion." 

Mather,  in  1700,  asserts :  *'  If  the  begun 
apostasy  should  proceed  as  fast  the  next  thirty 
years  as  it  has  done  these  last,  it  will  come  to 
that  in  New  England  (except  the  gospel  itself 
depart  with  the  order  of  it)  that  churches  must 
be  gathered  out  of  churches."  President  Wil- 
lard  also  published  a  sermon  in  the  same  year 


The  Revivalin  the  New  World.  283 

on  ''The  Perils  of  the  Times  Displayed,"  in 
which  he  asks,  ""  Whence  is  there  such  a  preva- 
lency  of  so  many  immoralities  amongst  pro- 
fessors ?  Why  so  little  success  of  the  gospel  ? 
1H0W  few  thorough  conversions  to  be  ob- 
served; how  scarce  and  seldom!  *  *  It  has  been 
a  frequent  observation  that  if  one  generation 
begins  to  decline,  the  next  that  follows  usually 
grows  worse  ;  and  so  on,  until  God  pours  out 
his  spirit  again  upon  them." 

It  was  thirty  years  before  the  dawn  of  the 
great  awakening  began  to  appear,  even  in  the 
colony  of  Massachusetts;  but  there  were  many 
godly  men  in  various  portions  of  the  American 
colonies  who  had  not  yet  bowed  the  knee  to  the 
Baal  of  worldliness,  and  who  earnestly  sought, 
by  great  fidelity  in  the  presentation  of  the 
truth,  to  arrest  the  evil  tendency  of  the  times. 
Among  them  was  that  greatest  of  American 
theologians,  Jonathan  Edwards.  Beholding 
the  melancholy  state  of  religion,  not  only  at 
Northampton,  but  in  the  surrounding  regions, 
and  that  this  evil  tendency  was  corrupting  the 
Church,  he  began  to  preach  with  greater  bold- 
ness, more  especially  with  the  purpose  of 
keeping  error  out  of  the  Church  than  with  the 
design  of  awakening  sinners.  He  was  a  man, 
however,  whose  convictions  were  exceedingly 
strong,  and  who  preached  the  truth,  not  simply 


284  The  Great  Revival, 

for  the  purpose  of  gaining  a  worldly  victory, 
but  because  he  loved  the  truth  and  the  Spirit 
wrought  mightily  by  it.  A  surprising  work  of 
grace  attended  his  preaching.  There  was  a 
melting  down  of  all  classes  and  ages,  in  an 
overwhelming  solicitude  about  salvation  ;  an 
absorbing  sense  of  eternal  realities  and  self- 
abasement  and  self-condemnation  ;  a  spirit  of 
secret  and  social  prayer,  followed  by  a  concern 
for  the  souls  of  others;  and  this  awakening  was 
so  sudden  and  solemn,  that  in  many  instances 
it  produced  loud  outcries,  and  in  some  cases 
convulsions.  Doubtless  this  great  awakening 
was  as  much  a  surprise  to  Edwards  as  to  those 
to  whom  he  ministered.  Naturally,  such  a 
wonderful  work  could  not  be  confined  to 
Northampton  alone  ;  it  began  to  extend  to 
other  places  in  the  colony.  Remarkable  and 
widespread  as  this  work  of  grace  was,  however, 
it  does  i^ot  seem  to  have  penetrated  through 
New  England  generally,  until  after  the  arrival 
of  Whitefield.  The  effect  of  Whitefield's  preach- 
ing in  Boston,  says  his  biographer,  was  amaz- 
ing. Old  Mr.  Walter,  the  successor  of  Eliot, 
the  apostle  to  the  Indians,  declared  it  was  Puri- 
tanism revived.  So  great  was  the  interest 
that  his  farewell  sermon  was  attended  by 
twenty  thousand  persons.  "Such  a  power  and 
presence   of  God   with  a  preacher,  and  in  re- 


The  Revival  in  the  New  World.  285 

ligious  assemblies,"  says  Dr.  Colman,  '*I 
never  saw  before.  Every  day  gives  me  fresh 
proofs  of  Christ  speaking  in  him."  And  this 
interest,  great  as  it  was,  seemed,  if  possible, 
exceeded  at  Northampton  when  Whitefield 
met  Edwards  and  reminded  his  people  of  the 
days  of  old.  A  like  success  attended  White- 
field's  ministry  in  the  town  and  college  of 
New  Haven,  and  at  Harvard  College  the  effect 
was  remarkable.  Secretary  Willard,  writing 
to  Whitefield,  says:  **That  which  forebodes 
the  most  lasting  advantage  is  the  new  state  of 
things  in  the  college,  where  the  impressions  of 
religion  have  been  and  still  are  very  general, 
and  many  in  a  judgment  of  charity  brought 
home  to  Christ.  Divers  gentlemen's  sons  that 
were  sent  there  only  for  a  more  polite  educa- 
tion, are  now  so  full  of  zeal  for  the  cause  of 
Christ  and  the  love  of  souls  as  to  devote  them- 
selves entirely  to  the  study  of  divinity."  And 
Dr.  Colman  wrote  Whitefield,  of  Cambridge : 
*'  The  college  is  entirely  changed  ;  the  stu- 
dents are  full  of  God,  and  will,  I  hope,  come 
out  blessings  in  their  generation,  and  I  trust 
are  so  now  to  each  other.  The  voice  of  prayer 
and  praise  fills  their  chambers,  and  sincerity, 
fervency,  and  joy,  with  seriousness  of  heart,  sit 
visible  on  their  faces." 

On  his  return  to  Boston,  in  1745,  Whitefield 


286  The  Great  Revival. 

himself  gives  a  similar  testimony  in  regard  to 
the  remarkable  results  of  the  Revival.  He  was 
followed  in  his  labours  there  by  Gilbert  Ten- 
nent,  a  Presbyterian  from  New  Jersey.  That 
this  was  not  an  overdrawn  picture  of  the  work 
may  be  inferred  from  a  public  testimony  given 
by  three  of  the  leading  ministers  in  Boston,  the 
Rev.  Messrs.  Prince,  Webb,  and  Cooper. 
Among  other  things,  they  said,  ''  The  wondrous 
work  of  God  at  this  day  making  its  triumphant 
progress  through  the  land  has  forced  many  men 
of  clear  minds,  strong  powers,  considerable 
knowledge,  and  firmly  riveted  in  ^  *  *  * 
Socinian  tenets,  to  give  them  all  up  at  once 
and  yield  to  the  adorable  sovereignty  and 
irresistibility  of  the  Divine  Spirit  in  His  saving 
operations  on  the  souls  of  men.  For  to  see 
such  men  as  these,  some  of  them  of  licentious 
lives,  long  inured  in  a  course  of  vice  and  of 
high  spirits,  coming  to  the  preaching  of  the 
Word,  some  only  out  of  curiosity,  and  mere  de- 
sign to  get  matter  of  cavilling  and  banter,  all 
at  once,  in  opposition  to  their  inward  resolu- 
tions and  resistances,  to  fall  under  an  unex- 
pected and  hated  power,  to  have  all  the 
strength  oftheir  resolution  and  resistance  taken 
away,  to  have  such  inward  views  of  the  horrid 
wickedness  not  only  of  their  lives  but  of  their 
hearts,  with  their  exceeding  great  and  immedi- 


The  Revival  in  the  New  World.  287 

• 

ate  danger  of  eternal  misery  as  has  amazed 
their  souls  and  thrown  them  into  distress 
unutterable,  yea,  forced  them  to  cry  out  in  the 
assemblies  with  the  greatest  agonies,  and  then, 
in  two  or  three  days,  and  sometimes  sooner, 
to  have  such  unexpected  and  raised  views  of 
the  infinite  grace  and  love  of  God  in  Christ,  as 
have  enabled  them  to  believe  in  Him ;  lifted 
them  at  once  out  of  their  distress ;  filled 
their  hearts  with  admiration  and  joy  unspeak- 
able and  full  of  glory,  breaking  forth  in  their 
shining  countenances  and  transporting  voices 
to  the  surprise  of  those  about  them,  kindling 
up  at  once  into  a  flame  of  love  to  God  in  utter 
detestation  of  their  former  courses  and  vicious 
habits,"  fairly  characterises  this  wonderful  work 
of  God. 

Gilbert  Tennent,  who  was  pressed  into  the 
field  by  Whitefield,  was  born  in  Ireland,  and 
brought  to  this  country  by  his  father,  and  was 
educated  for  the  ministry.  As  a  preacher  he 
was,  in  his  vigorous  days,  equalled  by  few. 
His  reasoning  powers  were  strong,  his  language 
was  forcible  and  often  sublime,  and  his  manner 
of  address  warm  and  earnest.  His  eloquence 
was,  however,  rather  bold  and  awful  than  soft 
and  persuasive,  he  was  most  pungent  in  his 
address  to  the  conscience.  When  he  wished  to 
alarm   the   sinner,   he   could   represent  in  the 


288  The  Great  Revival. 

most  awful  manner  the  terrors  of  the  Lord. 
With  admirable  dexterity  he  exposed  the  false 
hope  of  the  hypocrite,  and  searched  the  corrupt 
heart  to  the  bottom.  Such  were  some  of  the 
qualifications  of  the  man  whom  Whitefield 
chose  to  continue  his  work  in  America.  He 
entered  on  his  new  labours  with  almost  rustic 
simplicity,  wearing  his  hair  undressed  and  a 
large  great-coat  girt  with  a  leathern  girdle. 
He  was  of  lofty  stature  and  dignified  and  grave 
aspect.  His  career  as  a  preacher  in  New  Jersey 
had  been  remarkable,  and  now  in  New  England 
his  ministry  was  hardly  less  successful  than 
that  of  Whitefield.  He  actually  shook  the 
country  as  with  an  earthquake.  Wherever  he 
came  hypocrisy  and  Pharisaism  either  fell 
before  him  or  gnashed  their  teeth  against  him. 
Cold  orthodoxy  also  started  from  her  downy 
cushion  to  imitate  or  to  denounce  him.  So  testi- 
fies the  author  of  the  '■'Life  and  Times  of 
Whitefieldr 

Whitefield's  first  reception  in  New  York  was 
not  particularly  flattering.  He  was  refused  the 
use  of  both  the  church  and  the  court-house.  "  The 
commissary  of  the  Bishop,"  he  says,  *'was  full 
of  anger  and  resentment,  and  denied  me  the  use 
of  his  pulpit  before  I  asked  him  for  it."  He  re- 
plied, "  I  will  preach  in  the  fields,  for  all  places 
are  alike   to   me."     At   a  subsequent  visit  he 


The  Revival  in  the  New  World,         289 

preached  there  seven  weeks  with  great  accept- 
ableness  and  success.  Even  his  first  labours 
were  not  wholly  in  vain.  Dr.  Pemberton  wrote 
to  him  that  many  were  deeply  affected,  and 
some  who  had  been  loose  and  profligate  were 
ashamed  and  set  upon  thorough  reformation. 
The  printers  also  at  New  York,  as  at  Phila- 
delphia, applied  to  him  for  sermons  to  publish, 
assuring  him  that  hundreds  had  called  for 
them,  and  that  thousands  would  purchase  them. 
Of  his  later  visit  he  says,  "Such  flocking  of  all 
ranks  I  never  saw  before."  At  New  York 
many  of  the  most  respectable  gentlemen  and 
merchants  went  home  with  him  after  his  ser- 
mons to  hear  something  more  of  the  kingdom 
of  Christ. 

"At  Philadelphia,"  says  Philip,  in  his  Life 
and  Times  of  Whitefield,  "  his  welcome  was 
cordial.  Ministers  and  laymen  of  all  denomi- 
nations visited  him,  inviting  him  to  preach. 
He  was  especially  pleased  to  find  that  they 
preferred  sermons  when  not  delivered  wiihin 
church  walls.  It  was  well  they  did,  for  his 
fame  had  reached  the  city  before  he  arrived  and 
this  collected  crowds  which  no  church  could 
contain.  The  court-house  steps  became  his 
pulpit,  and  neither  he  nor  the  people  wearied, 
although  the  cold  winds  of  November  blew 
upon  them  night  after  night."     Previous  to  one 


290  The  Great  Revival. 

of  his  visits  in  Philadelphia,  a  place  was  erected 
in  which  Whitefield  could  preach,  and  its 
managers  offered  him  ;^8oo  annually,  with 
liberty  to  travel  six  months  in  a  year  wherever 
he  chose,  if  he  would  become  their  pastor. 
Though  pleased  with  the  offer  he  promptly 
declined  it.  He  was  more  pleased  to  learn  that 
in  consequence  of  a  former  visit  there  were  so 
many  under  soul-sickness  that  even  Gilbert 
Tennent's  feet  were  blistered  with  walking 
from  place  to  place  to  see  them. 

Of  his  work  in  Maryland  he  writes,  that  he 
found  those  who  had  never  heard  of  redeeming 
grace.  The  harvest  is  promising.  *'  Have 
Marylanders  also  received  the  grace  of  God  } 
Amazing  love.  Maryland  is  yielding  converts 
to  Jesus  ;  the  Gospel  is  moving  southwards." 

He  frequently  visited  New  Jersey  (Prince- 
ton) College,  and  there  won  many  young 
and  bright  witnesses  for  Christ.  Hearing  that 
sixteen  students  had  been  converted  at  a 
former  visit,  he  again  went  thither  to  fan  the 
'flame  he  had  kindled  among  the  students,  and 
says  that  he  had  four  sweet  seasons  which 
resembled  old  times.  His  spirits  rose  at  the 
sight  of  the  young  soldiers  who  were  to  fight 
when  he  fell. 

Although  at  times  prejudice  ran  high  against 
the  Indians,  Whitefield  espoused  their  cause  as 


The  Revival  in  the  New  World.         291 

a  philanthropist,  and  preached  to  them  through 
interpreters  at  the  Indian  school  of  Lebanon, 
under  Dr.  Wheelock,  where  the  sight  of  a  prom- 
ising nursery  for  future  missionaries  greatly 
inspired  him.  And  at  one  of  the  stations 
maintained  by  the  sainted  Brainerd,  he 
preached,  found  converted  Indians,  and  saw 
nearly  fifty  young  ones  in  one  school  learning 
a  Bible  catechism.  In  the  Indian  school  at 
Lebanon  he  became*  so  interested  that  he 
appealed  to  the  public  and  collected  ;^I20  at 
one  meeting  for  its  maintenance.  Wherever 
he  went  he  saw  the  Redeemer's  stately  steps 
in  the  great  congregations  which  he  addressed. 
If  there  was  any  one  point  about  which 
Whitefield's  interest  centered  in  America,  it 
was  in  the  orphan  asylum  which  he  aided  in 
establishing  in  Georgia.  This  was  his  '^Beth- 
esda."  The  prosperity  of  the  orphan  home 
was  engraved  upon  his  heart  as  with  the  point 
of  a  diamond,  and  it  was  ever  vividly  present  to 
him  wherever  he  went.  At  one  of  his  visits 
on  parting  with  the  inmates  he  says  :  "  Oh, 
what  a  sweet  meeting  I  had  with  my  dear 
friends  !  What  God  has  prepared  for  me  I 
know  not  ;  but  surely  I  cannot  expect  a  greater 
happiness  until  I  embrace  the  saints  in  glory  ! 
When  I  parted  my  heart  was  ready  to  break 
with  sorrow,  but  now  it  almost  bursts  with  joy. 


292  The  Great  Revival. 

Oh,  how  did  each  in  turn  hang  upon  my  neck, 
kiss  and  weep  over  me  with  tears  of  joy  !  And 
my  own  soul  was  so  full  of  the  sense  of  God's 
love,  when  I  embraced  one  friend  in  particular, 
that  I  thought  I  should  have  expired  in  the  place. 
I  felt  my  soul  so  full  of  the  sense  of  Divine 
goodness  that  I  wanted  words  to  express  my- 
self. When  we  came  to  public  worship,  young 
and  old  were  all  dissolved  in  tears.  After 
service  several  of  my  parishioners,  all  of  my 
family,  and  the  little  children  returned  home 
crying  along  the  street,  and  some  could  not  avoid 
praying  very  loud.  Being  very  weak  in  body 
I  laid  myself  upon  a  bed,  but  finding  so  many 
in  a  weeping  condition  I  rose  and  betook  myself 
to  prayer  again,  but  had  I  not  lifted  up  my 
voice  very  high  the  groans  and  cries  of  the 
children  would  have  prevented  me  from  being 
heard.  This  continued  for  near  an  hour,  till  at 
last,  finding  their  concern  rather  to  increase 
than  to  abate,  I  desired  all  to  retire.  Then 
some  or  other  might  be  heard  praying  earnestly 
in  every  corner  of  the  house.  It  happened  at 
this  time  to  thunder  and  lighten,  which  added 
very  much  to  the  solemnity  of  the  night.  *  *  I 
mention  the  orphans  in  particular,  that  their 
benefactors  may  rejoice  at  what  God  is  doing 
for  their  souls." 

It  is   evident    that    Whitefield  had    a  very 


The  Revival  in  the  New  World.  293 

tender  heart  towards  all  children.  One  of  his 
most  effective  sermons  at  Webb's  Chapel, 
Boston,  was  occasioned  by  the  touching  remark 
of  a  dying  boy,  who  had  heard  him  the  day 
before.  The  boy  was  taken  ill  after  the  ser- 
mon, and  said,  '*  I  want  to  go  to  Mr.  White- 
field's  God" — and  expired.  This  touched  the 
secret  place  of  both  the  thunder  and  the  tears 
of  Whitefield.  He  says,  "  It  encouraged  me  to 
speak  to  the  little  ones,  but  oh,  how  were  the 
old  people  affected  when  I  said,  '  Little  child- 
ren, if  your  parents  will  not  come  to  Christ,  do 
you  come  and  go  to  heaven  without  them.'" 
After  this  awful  appeal  no  wonder  that  there 
were  but  few  dry  eyes. 

Another  remarkable  evidence  of  the  extent 
and  power  of  the  Revival,  and  of  the  versatil-. 
ity  of  Mr.  Whitefield's  talents,  is  shown  in 
the  effect  produced  upon  the  negro  mind. 
The  intensest  interest  prevailed  among  even 
the  poorest  slaves.  Upon  one  occasion  White- 
field  was  very  ill,  and  in  the  hands  of  the  phy- 
sician to  the  time  when  he  was  expected  to 
preach.  Suddenly  he  exclaimed,  "■  My  pains 
are  suspended  ;  by  the  help  of  God  I  will  go 
and  preach,  and  then  come  home  and  die  !" 
With  some  difficulty  he  reached  the  pulpit.  All 
were  surprised,  and  looked  as  though  they  saw 
one  risen  from  the  dead.     He  says  of  himself,  **  I 


294  1^^^  Great  Revival, 

was  as  pale  as  death,  and  told  them  they  must 
look  upon  me  as  a  dying  man  come  to  bear  my 
dying  testimony  to  the  truths  I  had  formerly 
preached  to  them.  All  seemed  melted,  and 
were  drowned  in  tears.  The  cry  after  me  when 
I  left  the  pulpit  was  like  •  the  cry  of  sincere 
mourners  when  attending  the  funeral  of  a  dear 
departed  friend.  Upon  my  coming  home, 
I  was  laid  upon  a  bed  upon  the  ground  near  * 
the  fire,  and  I  heard  them  say,  '  He  is  gone  !' 
but  God  was  pleased  to  order  it  otherwise.  I 
gradually  recovered."  At  this  time  a  poor 
negro  woman  insisted  upon  seeing  him  when 
he  began  to  recover.  She  came  in  and  sat  on 
the  ground,  and  looked  earnestly  into  his  face; 
then  she  said,  in  broken  accents  :  *'  Massa,  you 
.jest  go  to  hebben's  gate  ;  but  Jesus  Christ  said, 
*  Get  you  down,  get  you  down  ;  you  musn't 
come  here  yet;  go  first  and  call  some  more  poor 
negroes.'  "  Many  colored  people  came  to  him 
asking,  ''  Have  I  a  soul  T^  Many  societies  for 
prayer  and  mutual  instruction  were  set  up.  Mr. 
Seward,  a  travelling  companion  of  Whitefield, 
relates  that  a  drinking  club,  whereof  a  clergy- 
man was  a  member,  had  a  negro  boy  attending 
them,  who  used  to  mimic  people  for  their  diver- 
sion. They  called  on  him  to  mimic  Whitefield, 
which  he  was  very  unwilling  to  do  ;  but  they 
insisted  upon  it.     He  stood  up  and  said  : — *'  I 


The  Revival  in  the  New  World,         295 

speak  the  truth  in  Christ,  I  lie  not,  unless  you 
repent  you  will  all  be  damned."  Seward  adds, 
''  This  unexpected  speech  broke  up  the  club, 
which  has  never  met  since." 

At  Savannah,  Charleston,  and  other  southern 
cities,  the  Great  Revival  had  a  remarkable  suc- 
cess. Josiah  Smith,  an  Independent  minister 
of  Charleston,  published  a  sermon  on  the 
character  and  preaching  of  Whitefield,  defend- 
ing his  doctrines,  his  personal  character,  and 
describing  his  manner  of  preaching.  Of  White- 
field's  power  he  says:  "He  is  certainly  a 
finished  preacher;  a  noble  negligence  ran 
through  his  style;  the  passion  and  flame  of  his  in- 
spiration will,  I  trust,  be  long  felt  by  many.  How 
was  his  tongue  like  the  pen  of  a  ready  writer, 
touched  as  with  a  coal  from  the  altar  !  With 
what  a  flow  of  words,  what  a  ready  profusion  of 
language  did  he  speak  to  us  upon  the  concerns 
of  our  souls  !  In  what  a  flaming  light  did  he 
set  our  eternity  before  us  !  How  earnestly  he 
pressed  Christ  upon  us  !  The  awe,  the  silence, 
the  attention,  which  sat  upon  the  faces  of  the 
great  audience  was  an  argument,  how  he  could 
reign  over  all  their  powers.  Many  thought  he 
spake  as  never  man  spake  before  him.  So 
charmed  were  the  people  with  the  manner  of 
his  address  that  they  shut  up  their  shops,  for- 
got their  secular  business,  and  the  oftener  he 


296  The  Great  Revival. 

preached  the  keener  edge  he  seemed  to  put 
upon  their  desires  to  hear  him  again.  How 
awfully — with  what  thunder  and  sound — did  he 
discharge  the  artillery  of  heaven  upon  us ! 
Eternal  themes,  the  tremendous  soleinnities  of 
our  religion  were  all  alive  uponhis  tongue.  He 
struck  at  the  politest  and  most  modish  of  our 
vices,  and  at  the  most  fashionable  entertain- 
ments, regardless  of  every  one's  presence  but 
His  in  whose  name  he  spake  with  this  author- 
ity. And  I  dare  warrant  if  none  should,  go  to 
these  diversions  until  they  had  answered  the 
solemn  questions  he  put  to  their  consciences, 
our  theatres  would  soon  sink  and  perish."  Mr. 
Smith  adds  that  £600  were  contributed  in 
Charleston  to  the  orphan  house. 

The  wonderful  quickening  which  the  Great 
Revival  gave  to  benevolent  and  charitable 
enterprises  deserves  at  least  a  passing  allusion. 
Besides  sending  forth  into  mission  work  such 
men  as  David  Brainerd,  and  even  Jonathan 
Edwards  himself,  it  also  laid  the  foundation 
more  securely  of  many  of  our  Christian  colleges, 
and  of  not  a  few  of  our  orphan  asylums.  White- 
field  founded  his  Bethesda  upon  a  tract  of  land 
covering  about  500  acres,  ten  miles  from  Sa- 
vannah, and  laid  out  the  plan  of  the  building, 
employed  workmen,  hired  a  large  house,  took 
in   24  orphans,    incurred    at    once  the    heavy 


The  Revival  in  the  New  World.  297 

responsibilities  of  a  large  family  and  a  larger 
institution,  encouraged,  as  he  says,  by  the 
example  of  Professor  Francke.  Yet  on  looking 
back  to  this  first  undertaking  he  said  :  ''  I  for- 
got that  Professor  Francke  built  in  a  populous 
country  and  that  I  was  building  at  the  very  tail 
end  of  the  world,  which  rendered  it  by  far  the 
most  expensive  part  of  all  his  Majesty's  domin- 
ions ;  but  had  I  received  more  and  ventured 
less,  I  should  have  suffered  less  and  others 
more."  He  undertook  to  provide  for  his  40 
orphans  and  60  servants  and  workmen  with  no 
fears  nor  misgivings  of  heart.  "  Near  a  hundred 
mouths,"  he  writes,  *'  are  daily  to  be  supplied 
with  food.  The  expense  is  great,  but  our  great 
and  good  God,  I  am  persuaded,  will  enable  me 
to  defray  it."  He  spent  a  winter  ^t  Bethesda 
in  1764,  and  of  the  success  of  his  orphanage  he 
says,"*' Peace  and  plenty  reign  at  Bethesda  ;  all 
things  go  on  successfully.  God  has  given  me 
great  favour  in  the  sight  of  the  governor,  coun- 
cil, and  assembly.  A  memorial  was  presented 
for  an  additional  grant  of  land  consisting  of 
about  2,000  acres,  and  was  immediately  com- 
plied with.  Every  heart  seems  to  leap  for  joy 
at  the  prospect  of  its  future  utility  to  this  and 
the  neighbouring  colonies." 

This  great  religious  movement  did  not  pro- 
gress without  stirring  up  much  bitterness.     It 


298  The  Great  Revival. 

was  even  asserted  by  President  Clap,  of  New 
Haven,  that  he  came  into  New  England  to 
turn  out  the  generality  of  their  ministers,  and  to 
replace  them  with  ministers  from  England, 
Ireland,  and  Scotland.  *'  Such  a  thought," 
replies  Whitefield,  ''  never  entered  my  heart, 
neither  has,  as  I  l^now  of,  my  preaching  any 
such  tendency."  It  is  said  of  one  minister  that 
he  went  merely  to  pick  a  hole  in  Whitefield's 
coat,  but  confessed  that  God  picked  a  hole  in 
his  heart,  and  afterward  healed  it  by  the  blood 
of  Christ.  After  one  of  his  visits  not  less 
than  twenty  ministers  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
Boston  did  not  hesitate  to  call  Whitefield  their 
spiritual  father,  tracing  their  conversion  to  his 
preaching.  These  men  immediately  entered 
upon  a  similar  work,  spreading  the  great 
awakening  throughout  that  colony. 

In  the  progress  of  this  work  under  Whitefield 
and  others,  there  were  frequent  outbursts  of 
wit  and  grim  humor.  Thus  when  pastors  were 
shy  of  giving  Whitefield  and  his  associates  a 
place  in  their  pulpits  and  the  people  voted  to 
allow  them  to  preach  in  their  churches,  White-  ' 
field  said,  **  The  /ord-hrethren  of  New  England 
could  tyrannize  as  well  as  the  lord-hishops  of 
Old  England."  The  caricatures  issued  from 
Boston  in  regard  to  the  work  were  designated 
as  half-penny  squibs  ;  and  a  good  old  Puritan 
of  the  city  said,  ''  they  did  not  weigh  much," 


The  Revival  in  the  New  World.  299 

Of  the  religion  of  America  Whitefield  writes  : 
**  I  am  more  and  more  in  love  with  the  good 
old  Puritans.  I  am  pleased  at  tjie  thought  of 
sitting  down  hereafter  with  the  venerable 
.Cotton,  Norton,  EHot,  and  that  great  cloud  of 
witnesses  who  first  crossed  the  western  ocean 
for  the  sake  of  the  sacred  gospel  and  the  faith 
once  delivered  to  the  saints.  At  present  my 
soul  is  so  filled  that  I  can  scarce  proceed." 
Again  he  writes  :  *'  It  is  too  much  for  one  man 
to  be  received  as  I  have  been  by  thousands. 
The  thoughts  of  it  lay  me  low  but  I  cannot  get 
low  enough.  I  would  willingly  sink  into 
nothing  before  the  blessed  Jesus — my  all  in  all." 
And  again,  ''  I  love  those  that  thunder  out  the 
Word.  The  Christian  world  is  in  a  deep  sleep, 
nothing  but  a  loud  voice  can  awaken  them  out 
of  it.  Had  we  a  thousand  hands  and  tongues 
there  is  employment  enough  for  them  all. 
People  are  everywhere  ready  to  perish  for 
lack  of  knowledge.  To  an  aged  veteran  he 
writes  from  North  Carolina,  '*  I  am  here  hunt- 
ing in  the  woods — these  ungospelized  wilds — for 
sinners.  It  is  pleasant  work,  though  my  body 
is  weak  and  crazy.  But  after  a  short  fermenta- 
tion in  the  grave,  it  will  be  fashioned  like  unto 
Christ's  glorious  body.  The  thought  of  this 
rejoices  my  soul  and  makes  me  long  to  leap  my 
seventy  years.     I  sometimes  think  all  will  go  to 


300  The  Great  Revival. 

heaven  before  me.  Pray  for  me  as  a  dying  man, 
but,  oh,  pray  that  I  may  not  go  off  as  a  snuff 
J  would  fain  die  blazing — not  with  human  glory, 
but  with  the  love  of  Jesus."  Such  was  the 
spirit  filling  the  great  souls  of  those  who  were 
God's  instruments  in  spreading  the  revival  in 
America.  Mr.  Whitefield  died  at  Newbury- 
port,  Massachusetts,  Sept.  30,  1770,  having 
preached  the  day  before  at  Exeter,  and  his  body 
rests  in  a  crypt  or  tomb  beneath  the  Presbyte- 
rian church  at  that  place. 

Of  the  effects  of  the  Great  Revival  in 
America,  Dr.  Abel  Stevens  says,  *'  The  Con- 
gregational churches  of  New  England,  the 
Presbyterians  and  Baptists  of  the  Middle  States, 
and  the  mixed  colonies  of  the  South,  owe  their 
late  religious  life  and  energy  mostly  to  the 
impulse  given  by  his  [Whitefield's]  powerful 
ministrations."  ■^-  *  -^^  In  Pennsylvania  and  New 
Jersey,  where  Frelinghuysen,  Blair,  Rowland, 
and  the  two  Tennents  had  been  labouring  with 
evangelistic  zeal,  he  was  received  as  a  prophet 
\  of  God,  and  it  was  then  that  the  Presbyterian 
/  Church  took  that  attitude  of  evangelical  power 
/  and  aggression  which  has  ever  since  character- 
/    izedit." 

A  single  incident  will  illustrate  the  effect  of 
the  Revival  upon  unbelievers  and  skeptics.  A 
noted    officer  of  Philadelphia,  who   had   long 


TJic  Revival  in  the  New  World.  301 

been  almost  an  atheist,  crept  into  the  crowd 
one  night  to  hear  a  sermon  on  the  visit  of 
Nicodemus  to  Christ.  When  he  came  home, 
his  wife  not  knowing  where  he  had  been, 
wished  he  had  heard  what  she  had  been  hear- 
ing. He  said  nothing.  Another  and  another  ^ 
of  his  family  came  in  and  made  a  similar  remark 
till  he  burst  into  tears  and  said,  '*  I  have  been 
hearing  him  and  approve  of  his  sermon."  He 
afterwards  became  a  sincere  Christian  with  the 
spirit  of  a  martyr. 

These  etchings  of  a  few  scenes  and  fewer 
facts  indicate  the  scope,  the  depth,  and  the 
sweep  of  the  Great  Revival  of  the  i8th  century 
in  America.  No  attempt  has  been  made  to 
sum  up  its  results,  nor  has  it  come  within  the 
purpose  of  this  work  to  give  an  inward  history 
of  the  movement,  nor  to  explain  the  philosophy 
of  it.  These  intricate  questions  may  be  left  to 
philosophers;  the  Christian  delights  to  know 
the  facts  ;  he  will  cheerfully  wait  for  the  future 
life  to  unfold  all  the  mystery  and  philosophy  of 
the  plan  and  work  of  salvation.  Then,  as 
Whitefield  exclaims, ''  What  amazing  mysteries 
will  be  unfolded  when  each  link  in  the  golden 
chain  of  providence  and  grace  shall  be  seen  and 
scanned  by  beatified  spirits  in  the  kingdom  of 
heaven  !  Then  all  will  appear  symmetry  and 
harmony,   and    even    the    most    intricate    and 


302  The  Great  Revival. 

seemingly  most  contrary  dispensations,  will  be 
evidenced  to  be  the  result  of  infinite  and  con- 
summate wisdom,  power,  and  love.  Above  all, 
there  the  believer  will  see  the  infinite  depths  of  J^ 
that  mystery  of  godliness,  '  God  manifested  in  T 
the  flesh,'  and  join  with  that  blessed  choir,  who, 
with  a  restless  unweariedness,  are  ever  singing 
the  song  of  Moses  and  the  Lamb." 


APPENDIX  A  (Pages  9  and  97). 

The  Puritans  were  men  whose  minds  had  derived  a  peculiar 
character  from  the  daily  contemplation  of  superior  beings  and 
eternal  interests.  Not  content  with  acknowledging,  in  general 
terms,  an  overruling  Providence,  they  habitually  ascribed  every 
event  to  the  will  of  the  Great  Being,  for  whose  power  nothing  was 
too  vast,  for  whose  inspection  nothing  was  too  minute.  To  know 
him,  to  serve  him,  to  enjoy  him,  was,  with  them,  the  great  end 
of  existence.  They  rejected,  with  contempt,  the  ceremonious 
homage  which  other  sects  substituted  for  the  pure  worship  of 
the  soul.  Instead  of  catching  occasional  glimpses  of  the  Deity 
through  an  obscuring  veil,  they  aspired  to  gaze  full  on  his  intol- 
erable brightness,  and  to  commune  with  him  face  to  face.  Hence 
originated  their  contempt  for  terrestrial  distinctions.  The  differ- 
ence between  the  greatest  and  the  meanest  of  mankind  seemed 
to  vanish,  when  compared  with  the  boundless  interval  which 
separated  the  whole  race  from  Him  on  whom  their  own  eyes  were 
constantly  fixed.  They  recognized  no  title  to  superiority  but  His 
favor  ;  and,  confident  of  that  favor,  they  despised  all  the  accom- 
plishments and  all  the  dignities  of  the  world.  If  they  were  un- 
acquainted with  the  works  of  philosophers  and  poets,  they  were 
deeply  read  in  the  oracles  of  God.  If  their  names  were  not  found 
in  the  registers  of  heralds,  they  were  recorded  in  the  Book  of 
Life.  If  their  steps  were  not  accompanied  by  a  splendid  train 
of  menials,  legions  of  ministering  angels  had  charge  over  them. 
Their  palaces  were  houses  not  made  with  hands  ;  their  diadems 
cro^\Tis  of  glory  which  should  never  fade  away.  On  the  rich  and 
the  eloquent,  on  nobles  or  priests  they  looked  dovm  with  con- 
tempt, for  they  esteemed  themselves  rich  in  a  more  precious 
measure,  and  eloquent  in  a  more  sublime  language— nobles  by 
right  of  an  earlier  creation,  and  priests  by  the  imposition  of  a 
mightier  hand.  The  very  meanest  of  them  was  a  being  to  whose 
fate  a  mysterious  and  terrible  importance  belonged,  on  whose 
slightest  action  the  spirits  of  light  and  darkness  looked  with 
anxious  interest,  who  had  been  destined,  before  Heaven  and 
'303) 


304  Appendix. 

earth  were  created,  to  eujoy  a  felicity  which  should  continue 
when  heaven  and  earth  should  have  passed  away.  Events 
which  short-sighted  politicians  ascribed  to  earthly  causes,  had 
been  ordained  on  his  account.  For  his  sake  empires  had  risen, 
and  flourished,  and  decayed.  For  his  sake  the  Almighty  had 
proclaimed  His  will  by  the  pen  of  the  Evangelist,  and  the  harp 
of  the  prophet.  He  had  been  wrested  by  no  common  deliverer 
from  the  grasp  of  no  common  foe.  He  had  been  ransomed  by 
the  sweat  of  no  vulgar  agony,  by  the  blood  of  no  earthly  sacrifice. 
It  was  for  him  that  the  sun  had  been  darkened,  that  the  rocks 
had  been  rent,  that  the  dead  had  risen,  that  all  nature  had 
shuddered  at  the  suiferings  of  her  expiring  God. 

Thus  the  Puritan  was  made  up  of  two  different  men  :  the  one 
all  self-abasement,  penitence,  gratitude,  passion ;  the  other 
proud,  calm,  inflexible,  sagacious.  He  prostrated  himself  in  the 
dust  before  his  Maker,  but  he  set  his  foot  on  the  neck  of  his 
king.  In  his  devotional  retirement,  he  prayed  with  convulsions, 
and  groans  and  tears.  He  was  half  maddened  by  glorious  or 
terrible  illusions.  He  heard  the  lyres  of  angels  or  the  tempting 
whispers  of  fiends.  He  caught  a  gleam  of  the  Beatific  Vision, 
or  woke  screaming  from  dreams  of  everlasting  fire.  Like  Vane, 
he  thought  himself  entrusted  with  the  sceptre  of  the  millennial 
year.  Like  Fleetwood,  he  cried  in  the  bitterness  of  his  soul  that 
God  had  hid  His  face  from  him.  But  when  he  took  his  seat 
in  the  council,  or  girt  on  his  sword  for  war,  these  tempestuous 
workings  of  the  soul  had  left  no  perceptible  trace  behind  them. 
People  who  saw  nothing  of  the  godly  but  their  uncouth  visages, 
and  heard  nothing  from  them  but  their  groans  and  their  whining 
hymns,  might  laugh  at  them.  But  those  had  little  reason  to 
laugh  who  encountered  them  in  the  hall  of  debate,  or  on  the  field 
of  battle.  These  fanatics  brought  to  civil  and  military  affairs  a 
coolness  of  judgment  and  an  immutability  of  purpose  which 
some  Avriters  have  thought  inconsistent  Avith  their  religious  zeal, 
but  which  were  in  fact  the  necessary  effects  of  it.  The  intensity 
of  their  feelings  on  one  subject  made  them  tranrjuil  on  every 
other.  One  overj)owering  sentiment  had  subjected  to  itself  pity 
and  hatred,  ambition  and  fear.  Death  had  lost  its  terrors  and 
pleasure  its  charms.  They  had  their  smiles  and  their  tears, 
their  raptures  and  their  sorrows,  but  not  for  tlie  things  of  this 
world.    Enthusiasm  had  made  them  stoics,  had  cleared  their 


Appendix.  305 

minds  from  every  vulgar  passion  and  prejudice,  and  raised 
them  above  the  influence  of  danger  and  of  corruption.  It  some- 
times might  lead  them  to  pursue  unwise  ends,  but  never  to 
choose  unwise  means.  They  went  through  the  world,  like  Sir 
Artegal's  iron  man  Talus  with  his  flail,  crushing  and  trampling 
down  oppressors,  mingling  with  human  beings,  but  having 
neither  part  nor  lot  in  human  infirmities,  insensible  to  fatigue, 
to  pleasure,  and  to  pain,  not  to  be  pierced  by  any  weapon,  not  to 
be  withstood  by  any  barrier.— Jlfacaw^ay's  Essay  on  Milton. 


APPENDIX  B  (Page  21). 

" '  The  Vicar  of  Wakefield  '  is  a  domestic  epic.  Its  hero  is  a 
coimtry  parson— simple,  pious  and  pure-hearted— a  humorist  in 
his  way,  a  little  vain  of  his  learning,  a  little  proud  of  his  fine 
family — sometimes  rather  sententious,  never  pedantic,  and  a 
dogmatist  only  on  the  one  favorite  topic  of  monogamy,  which 
crops  out  now  and  then  above  the  surface  of  his  character,  only 
to  give  it  a  new  charm.  Its  world  is  a  rural  district,  beyond 
whose  limits  the  action  rarely  passes,  and  that  only  on  great  oc- 
casions. Domestic  afiections  and  joys,  relieved  by  its  cares,  its 
foibles,  and  its  little  failings,  cluster  around  the  parsonage^  till 
the  storms  from  the  eutward  world  invade  its  holiness  and  trou- 
ble its  peace.  Then  comes  sorrow  and  suffering;  and  we  have 
the  hero,  like  the  patriarchal  prince  of  the  land  of  Uz,  when  the 
Lord  '  put  forth  His  hand  and  touched  all  that  He  had,'  meeting 
each  new  affliction  with  meekness  an^  with  patience — rising  from 
each  new  tiial  with  renewed  reliance  upon  God,  till  the  lowest 
depth  of  his  earthy  suffering  becomes  the  highest  elevation  of 
his  moral  strength." 


APPENDIX  C  (Page  28). 

The  most  interesting  phases  which  the  Eeformation  anywhere 
assumes,  especially  for  us  English,  is  that  of  Puritanism.  In 
Luther's  own  country.  Protestantism  soon  dwindled  into  a  rather 
barren  affair,  not  a  religion  or  faith,  but  rather  now  a  theologi- 
cal jangling  of  argument,  the  proper  seat  of  it  not  the  heart ;  the 


3o6  Appendix, 

essence  of  it  skeptical  contention ;  which,  indeed,  has  jangled 
more  and  more,  down  to  Voltairism  itself;  through  Gustavus 
Adolphus  contentions  onward  to  French-Revolution  cries  !  But 
on  our  island  there  arose  a  Puritanism,  which  even  got  itself  es- 
tablished as  a  Presbyterianism  and  national  church  among  the 
Scotch ;  which  came  forth  as  a  real  business  of  the  heart ;  and 
has  produced  in  the  world  very  notable  fruit.  In  some  senses 
one  may  say  it  is  the  only  phase  of  Protestantism  that  ever  got  to 
the  rank  of  being  a  faith,  a  true  communication  with  Heaven, 
and  of  exhibiting  itself  in  history  as  such.  We  must  spare  a  few 
words  for  Knox ;  himself  a  brave  and  remarkable  man  ;  but 
still  more  important  as  chief  priest  and  founder,  which  one  may 
consider  him  to  be,  of  the  faith  that  became  Scotland's,  New 
England's,  Oliver  Cromwell's.  History  will  have  something  to 
say  about  this  for  some  time  to  come  ! 

We  may  censure  Puritanism  as  we  please  ;  and  no  one  of  us,  I 
suppose,  but  would  find  it  a  very  rough,  defective  thing;  but 
we,  and  all  men,  may  understand  that  it  was  a  genuine  thing  ; 
for  nature  has  adopte^  it,  and  it  has  grown  and  grows.  I  say 
sometimes  that  all  goes  by  wager  of  battle  in  this  world ;  that 
strength,  well  understood,  is  the  measure  of  all  worth.  Give  a 
thing  time  ;  if  it  can  succeed,  it  is  a  right  thing.  Look  now  at 
American  Saxondom  ;  and  at  that  little  fact  of  the  sailing  of  the 
Mayflower,  two  hundred  years  ago,  from  Delft  Haven,  in  Hol- 
land !  Were  we  of  open  sense,  as  the  Greeks  were,  we  had 
found  a  poem  here ;  one  of  nature's  own  poems,  such  as  she 
writes  in  broad  facts  over  great  continents.  For  it  was  properly 
the  beginning  of  America :  there  were  straggling  settlers  in 
America  before,  some  material  as  of  a  body  was  there  ;  but  the 
soul  of  it  was  first  this.  These  poor  men,  ^'iven  out  of  their 
own  country,  not  able  well  to  live  in  Holland,  determined  on 
settling  in  the  New  World.  Black,  untamed  forests  are  there, 
and  wild,  savage  creatures  ;  but  not  so  cruel  as  star-chamber 
hangmen.  They  thought  the  earth  would  yield  them  food,  if  they 
tilled  honestly  ;  the  everlasting  Heaven  would  stretch  there,  too, 
overhead  ;  they  should  be  left  in  peace,  to  prepare  for  Eternity 
by  living  well  in  this  world  of  time  ;  worshipping  in  what  they 
thought  the  true,  not  the  idolatrous  way.  They  clubbed  their 
small  means  together  ;  hired  a  ship,  the  little  ship  Mayflower, 
and  made  ready  to  set  sail.    In  NeaVs  History  of  the  Puritans  is 


Appendix,  307 

an  account  of  the  ceremony  of  their  departure  ;  solemnity,  we 
might  call  it,  rather,  for  it  was  a  real  act  of  worship.  Their 
minister  went  down  with  them  to  the  beach,  and  their  brethren, 
whom  they  were  to  leave  behind ;  all  joined  in  solemn  prayer 
that  God  would  have  pity  on  His  poor  children,  and  go  with 
them  into  that  waste  wilderness,  for  He  also  had  made  that,  He 
was  there  also  as  well  as  here.  Hah  !  These  men,  I  think,  had 
a  work  !  The  weak  thing,  weaker  than  a  child,  becomes  strong 
one  day,  if  it  be  a  true  thing.  Puritanism  was  only  despicable, 
laughable  then ;  but  nobody  can  manage  to  laugh  at  it  now. 
Puritanism  has  got  weapons  and  sinews  ;  it  has  fire-arms,  war 
navies ;  it  has  cimning  in  its  ten  fingers,  strength  in  its  right 
arm  :  it  can  steer  ships,  fell  forests,  remove  mountains;  it  is  one 
of  the  strongest  things  under  this  sun  at  present  \—Carlyle  on 
Heroes,  Hero-worship  and  Ihe  Heroic  in  History. 


APPENDIX  D  (Page  36). 

It  has  been  said  of  Lady  Huntingdon  that  "  almost  from  infan- 
cy an  uncommon  seriousness  shaded  the  natural  gladness  of  her 
childhood,"  and  that,  without  any  positive  religious  instruction, 
for  none  knew  her  " inward  sorrows,"  when  she  was  a  "little 
girl,  nor  were  there  any  around  her  who  could  have  led  her  to 
the  balm  there  is -in  Gilcad,"  she  devoutly  and  dihgently 
searched  the  Scriptures,  if  haply  she  might  find  that  precious 
something  which  her  soul  craved. 

During  the  first  years  of  her  married  life  (she  was  married  at 
the  age  of  21  and  in  the  year  1728),  "  her  chief  endeavor  *  * 
*  *  was  to  maintain  a  conscience  void  of  offense.  She  strove 
to  fulfill  the  various  duties  of  her  position  with  scrupulous  ex- 
actness ;  she  was  sincere,  just  and  upright ;  she  prayed,  fasted 
and  gave  alms;  she  was  courteous,  considerate  and  charitable." 

Her  husband.  Lord  Huntingdon,  had  a  sister,  Lady  Margaret 
Hastings,  who,  under  the  preaching  of  Mr.  Ingham,  in  Ledstone 
Church  in  Yorkshire,  was  converted.  Afterwards,  when  visiting 
her  brother;  these  words  were  uttered  by  her:  "  Since  I  have 
known  and  believed  in  the  Lord  Jesus  for  salvation,  I  have  been 
as  happy  as  an  angel."  The  expression  was  strange  to  Lady 
Huntingdon— it  alarmed  her— she  sought  to  work  out  a  right- 


308  Appendix. 

eousness  of  lier  own,  but  the  effort  only  widened  the  breach  be- 
tween herself  and  God.  "Thus  harassed  by  inward  conflicts, 
Lady  Huntingdon  was  thrown  upon  a  sick  bed,  and  after  many 
days  and  nights  seemed  hastening  to  the  grave.  The  fear  of 
death  fell  terribly  upon  her." 

In  that  condition  the  words  of  Lady  Margaret  recurred  with  a 
new  meaning.  *'  I  too  will  wholly  cast  myself  on  Jesus  Christ 
for  life  and  salvation,"  was  her  last  refuge  ;  and  from  her  bed 
she  lifted  up  her  heart  to  God  for  pardon  and  mercy  through 
the  blood  of  His  Son.  "  Lord,  I  believe  ;  help  Thou  mine  unbe- 
lief," was  her  prayer.  Doubt  and  distress  vanished  and  joy  and 
peace  filled  her  bosom.  —  From  ''Lady  Huntingdon  and  her 
Friends.''''    Compiled  by  Mrs.  Helen  G.  KnigM. 


APPENDIX  E  (Page  71). 

"It  is  easier  to  justify  the  heads  of  the  restored  Clergy  upon 
this  point  [want  of  uniformity  or  unity  in  tlie  Church  of  Engr- 
land],  than  to  excuse  them  for  appropriating  to  themselves  the 
wealth  Avhich,  in  consequence  of  the  long  protracted  calamities 
of  the  nation,  was  placed  at  their  disposal.  The  leases  of  the 
church  lands  had  almost  all  fallen  in  ;  there  had  been  no  re- 
newal for  twenty  years,  and  the  fines  which  were  now  raised 
amounted  to  about  a  million  and  a  half.  Some  of  this  money 
was  expended  in  repairing,  as  far  as  was  reparable,  that  havoc 
in  churches  and  cathedrals  which  the  fanatics  had  made  in  their 
abominable  reign  ;  some  also  was  disposed  of  in  ransoming  Eng- 
lish slaves  from  the  Barbary  pirates  ;  but  the  greater  part  went 
to  enrich  individuals  and  build  up  families,  instead  of  being  em- 
ployed, as  it  ought  to  have  been,  in  improving  the  condition  of 
the  inferior  clergy.  Queen  Anne  applied  the  tenths  and  first 
fruits  to  this  most  desirable  object ;  but  the  effect  of  her  aug- 
mentation was  slow  and  imperceptible  :  they  continued  in  a 
state  of  degrading  poverty,  and  that  poverty  was  another  cause 
of  the  declining  influence  of  the  Church,  and  the  increasing  irre- 
ligion  of  the  people. 

A  further  cause  is  to  be  found  in  the  relaxation  of  discipline. 
In  the  Eomish  days  it  had  been  grossly  abused ;  and  latterly 
also  it  had  been  brought  into  general  abhorrence  and  contempt 


Appendix.  309 

by  the  tyrannical  measures  of  Laud  on  one  side,  and  the  ab- 
surd vigor  of  Puritanism  on  the  other.  The  clergy  had  lost  that 
authority  -which  may  al'ways  command  at  least  the  appearance 
of  respect ;  and  they  had  lost  that  respect  also  by  which  the 
place  of  authority  may  sometimes  so  much  more  worthily  be 
supplied.  For  the  loss  of  power  they  were  not  censurable  ;  but 
if  they  possessed  little  of  that  influence  which  the  minister  who 
?  diligently  and  conscientiously  discharges  his  duty  will  certainly 
acquire,  it  is  manifest  that,  as  a  body,  they  must  have  been  cul- 
pably remiss.  From  the  Kestoration  to  the  accession  of  the 
House  of  Hanover,  the  English  Church  could  boast  of  some  of 
its  brightest  ornaments  and  ablest  defenders  ;  men  who  have 
neither  been  surpassed  in  piety,  nor  in  erudition,  nor  in  indus- 
try, nor  in  eloquence^ nor  in  strength  and  subtlety  of  mind  :  and 
when  the  design  for  re-establishing  popery  in  these  kingdoms 
was  systematically  pursued,  to  them  we  are  indebted  for  that 
calm  and  steady  resistance,  by  which  our  liberties,  civil  as  well 
as  religious,  were  preserved.  But  in  the  great  majority  of  the 
clergy  zeal  was  awanting.  The  excellent  Leighton  spoke  of  the 
Church  as  a  fair  carcass  without  a  spirit;  in  doctrine,  in  worship, 
and  in  the  main  part  of  its  government,  he  thought  it  the  best 
constituted  in  the  world,  but  one  of  the  most  corrupt  in  its  ad- 
ministration. And  Burnet  observes,  that  in  his  time  our  clergy 
had  less  authority,  and  were  under  more  contempt,  than  those 
of  any  other  church  in  Europe  ;  for  they  were  much  the  most 
remiss  in  their  labors,  and  the  least  severe  in  their  lives.  It 
was  not  that  their  lives  were  scandalous  ;  he  entirely  acquitted 
them  of  any  such  imputation  ;  but  they  were  not  exemplary  as 
it  became  them  to  be  :  and  in  the  sincerity  and  grief  of  a  pious 
and  reflecting  mind,  he  pronounced  that  they  should  never  re- 
gain the  influence  which  they  had  lost,  till  they  lived  better  and 
labored  more." — Southey's  Life  of  Wesley. 


APPENDIX  F  (Pages  73  and  98). 

"  The  observant  Frenchman  to  whom  we  have  several  times 
referred,  M.  Grosley,  says  of  the  'sect  of  the  Methodists,'  'this 
establishment  has  borne  all  the  persecutions  that  it  could  possi- 
bly apprehend  in  a  country  as  much  disposed  to  persecution  as 


3  lo  Appendix, 

England  is  the  reverse.'  The  light  literature  of  forty  years  over- 
flows with  ridicule  of  Methodism.  The  preachers  are  pelted  by 
the  mob  ;  the  converts  are  held  up  to  execration  as  fanatics  or 
hypocrites.  Yet  Methodism  held  the  ground  it  had  gained.  It 
had  gone  forth  to  utter  the  words  of  truth  to  men  little  above  the 
beasts  that  perish,  and  it  had  brought  them  to  regard  them- 
selves as  akin  to  humanity.  The  time  would  come  when  its  ear- 
nestness would  awaken  the  Church  itself  from  its  somnolency, 
and  the  educated  classes  would  not  be  ashamed  to  be  religious. 
There  was  wild  enthusiasm  enough  in  some  of  the  followers  of 
Whitefield  and  Wesley  ;  much  self  seeking ;  zeal  verging  upon 
profaneness ;  moral  conduct  strongly  opposed  to  pious  profes- 
sion. But  these  earnest  men  left  a  mark  upon  their  time  which 
can  never  be  effaced.  The  obscure  youngistudents  at  Oxford  in 
1736,  who  were  first  called  ' Sacramentarians,'  then  'Bible 
moths, '  and  finally  'Methodists,  to  whom  the  regular  pulpits 
were  closed,  and  who  went  forth  to  preach  in  the  fields — who 
separated  from  the  Church  more  in  form  than  in  reality — pro- 
duced a  moral  revolution  in  England  which  probably  saved  ua 
from  the  fate  of  nations  wholly  abandoned  to  their  own  devices." 
—From  Knight's  Hisiory  of  England. 


APPENDIX  (Pages  97  and  98). 
{See  Appendix  A  and  F.) 


APPENDIX  (Page  114). 

"  The  *  two  brothers  in  song '  (John  and  Charles  Wesley)  began 
their  issue  of  '  Hymns  and  Sacred  Songs '  in  1739,  and  continued 
at  intervals  to  supply  Christian  singers  for  half  a  century.  Thirty- 
eight  publications  appeared  one  after  the  other  :  now  under  the 
name  of  one  brother,  now  under  that  of  the  other  ;  some  with 
both  names,  and  others  nameless.  The  two  hymnists  appear  to 
have  agreed  that,  in  the  volumes  which  bore  their  joint  names, 
they  would  not  distinguish  their  hymns." — The  Epworih  Singers 
and  other  poets  of  Methodism,  by  the  Eev.  S.  W.  Christophers,  Eed- 
ruth,  Cornwall. 


Appendix,  3^^ 

APPENDIX  (Note,  Page  118). 

The  God  of  Abraham  praise, 
Who  reigns  euthron'd  above  ; 
Ancient  of  everlasting  days, 
And  God  of  love  : 
Jehovah— great  I  Am— 
By  earth  and  Heavens  confest ; 
I  bow  and  bless  the  sacred  name, 
For  ever  bless'd. 
The  God  of  Abraham  praise. 
At  whose  supreme  command 
From  earth  I  rise,  and  seek  the  joys 
At  His  right  hand : 
I  all  on  earth  forsake, 
Its  wisdom,  fame  and  power, 
And  Him  my  only  portion  make. 
My  Shield  and  Tower. 

The  God  of  Abraham  praise, 
Whose  all-sufaoient  grace 
Shall  guide  me  all  my  happy  days. 
In  all  my  ways  : 
He  calls  a  worm  His  friend  I 
He  calls  Himself  my  God  I 
And  He  shall  save  me  to  the  end. 
Thro'  Jesus'  blood. 
He  by  Himself  hath  sworn  I 
I  on  His  oath  depend, 
I  shall,  on  eagle's  wings  up-borne. 
To  Heaven  ascend ; 
I  shall  behold  His  face, 
I  shall  His  power  adore, 
And  sing  the  wonders  of  His  grace 
For  evermore. 
Tho'  nature's  strength  decay. 
And  earth  and  hell  withstand. 
To  Canaan's  bounds  I  urge  my  way 
At  His  command : 


312                           Appendix,  1 

The  wat'ry  deep  I  pass,  j 

With  Jesus  in  my  view ;  j 

And  thro'  the  howling  wilderness  I 

My  way  pursue.  i 

The  goodly  land  I  see,  'I 

With  peace  and  plenty  bless'd ;  ' 

A  land  of  sacred  liberty,  i 

And  endless  rest.  i 

There  milk  and  honey  flow,  ] 

And  oil  and  wine  abound,  : 

And  trees  of  life  forever  grow,  i 

With  mercy  crown'd.  ' 

There  dwells  the  Lord  our  King,  { 

The  Lord  our  Righteousness,  \ 

Triumphant  o'er  the  world  and  sin,  i 

The  Prince  of  Peace  ;  \ 

On  Sion's  sacred  heights 

His  Kingdom  still  maintains  ;  < 
And  glorious  with  the  saints  in  light, 
Forever  reigns. 

He  keeps  His  own  secure, 

He  guards  them  by  His  side,  i 

Arrays  in  garments  white  and  pure  ' 

His  spotless  bride. 

With  streams  of  sacred  bliss, 

With  groves  of  living  joys,  j 

With  all  the  fruits  of  Paradise  j 

He  still  supplies.  \ 

\ 
Before  the  great  Three — One 

They  all  exulting  stand  ;  ' 

And  tell  the  wonders  He  hath  done,                   '  , 

Thro'  all  their  land : 

The  list'ning  spheres  attend, 

And  swell  the  growing  fame  ; 

And  sing,  in  songs  which  never  end, 

The  wondrous  name. 


Appendix.  3 1 3 

The  God  who  reigns  on  high, 
The  great  Archangels  sing, 
And  "  Holy,  holy,  holy,"  cry, 
Almighty  King ! 
Who  was,  and  is,  the  same  I 
And  evermore  shall  be  ; 
Jehovah — Father — great  I  Am  I 
We  worship  Thee. 

Before  the  Saviour's  face 
The  ransom'd  nations  bow ; 
O'erwhelmed  at  His  Almighty  grace, 
Forever  new: 
He  shows  His  prints  of  love — 
They  kindle — to  a  flame  ! 
And  sound  through  all  the  worlds  above, 
The  slaughter'd  Lamb. 

The  whole  triumphant  host 
Give  thanks  to  God  on  high ; 
"  Hail,  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost !" 
They  ever  cry : 
Hail,  Abraham's  God — and  mine  I 
I  join  the  heavenly  lays, 
All  might  and  majesty  are  Thine, 
And  endless  praise. 

Thomas  Olivers,  the  author  of  the  above  hymn,  lived  to  see  the 
issue  of  at  least  thirty  editions  of  it. 


APPENDIX  (Page  118). 
THE  LAST  JUDGMENT. 

BY  THOMAS  OLIVERS. 

Come,  immortal  King  of  Glory, 
Now  in  Majesty  appear. 
Bid  the  nations  stand  before  Thee, 
Each  his  final  doom  to  hear, 


314  Appendix, 

Come  to  judgment, 
Come,  Lord  Jesus,  quickly  come. 

Speak  the  word,  and  lo  I  all  nature 
Flies  before  Thy  glorious  face, 
Angels  sing  your  great  Creator, 
Saints  proclaim  His  sovereign  grace, 

While  ye  praise  Him, 
Lift  your  heads  and  see  Him  come. 

See  His  beauty  all  resplendent. 
View  Him  in  His  glory  shine. 
See  His  majesty  transcendent, 
Seated  on  His  throne  sublime : 

Angels  praise  Him, 
Saints  and  angels  praise  the  Lamb. 

Shout  aloud,  ye  heavenly  choirs. 
Trumpet  forth  Jehovah's  praise  ; 
Trumpets,  voices,  hearts  and  lyres  I 
Speak  the  wonders  of  His  grace  I 

Sound  before  Him 
Endless  praises  to  His  name. 

Eansom'd  sinners,  see  His  ensign 
Waving  thro'  the  purpled  air  I 
'Midst  ten  thousand  lightnings  daring, 
Jesus'  praises  to  declare ; 

How  tremendous 
Is  this  dreadful,  joyful  day. 

Crowns  and  sceptres  fall  before  Him, 
Kings  and  conquerors  own  His  sway. 
Fearless  potentates  are  trembling. 
While  they  see  His  lightnings  play : 

How  triumphant 
Is  the  world's  Bedeemer  now. 

Noon-day  beauty  in  its  lustre 
Doth  in  Jesus'  aspect  shine, 
Blazing  comets  are  not  fiercer 
Than  the  flaming  eyes  Divine  : 


Appendix.  315 


O,  how  dreadful 
Doth  the  Crucified  appear. 

Hear  His  voice  as  mighty  thunder, 
Sounding  in  eternal  roar  ! 
Tar  surpassing  many  waters 
Echoing  wide  from  shore  to  shore : 

Hear  His  accents 
Through  th'  unfathom'd  deep  resound 

*'  Come,"  He  saith,  "  ye  heirs  ©f  glory, 
Come,  the  purchase  of  my  blood  ; 
Bless'd  ye  are,  and  bless'd  ye  shall  be, 
Now  ascend  the  mount  of  God  ; 

Angels  guard  them 
To  the  realms  of  endless  day." 

See  ten  thousand  flaming  seraphs 
From  their  thrones  as  lightnings  fly ; 
"  Take,"  they  cry,  "your  seats  above  us, 
Nearest  Him  who  rules  the  sky : 

Favorite  sinners, 
How  rewarded  are  you  now  !" 

Haste  and  taste  celestial  pleasure  ; 
Haste  and  reap  immortal  joys  ; 
Haste  and  drink  the  crystal  river  ; 
Lift  on  high  your  choral  voice, 

"WTiile  archangels 
Shout  aloud  the  great  Amen. 

But  the  angry  Lamb's  determin'd 
Every  evil  to  descry ; 
They  who  have  His  love  rejected 
Shall  before  His  vengeance  fly. 

When  He  drives  them 
To  their  everlasting  doom. 

Now,  in  awful  expectation. 
See  the  countless  millions  stand  ; 
Dread,  dismay,  and  sore  vexation, 
Seize  the  helpless,  hopeless  band ; 


3i6  Appendix, 

Baleful  thunders, 
Stop  and  hear  Jehovah's  voice ! 

*'  Go  from  me,"  He  saith,  "  ye  cursed- 
Ye  for  whom  I  bled  in  vain — 
Ye  who  have  my  grace  refused — 
Hasten  to  eternal  pain  !" 

How  victorious 
Is  the  conquering  Son  of  Man  ! 

See,  in  solemn  pomp  ascending, 
Jesus  and  His  glorious  train ; 
Countless  myriads  now  attend  Him, 
Rising  to  th'  imperial  plain ; 

Hallelujah  ! 
To  the  bless'd  Immanuel's  name  ! 

In  full  triumph  see  them  marching 
Through  the  gates  of  massy  light ; 
While  the  city  walls  are  sparkling 
With  meridian's  glory  bright ; 

How  stupendous 
Are  the  glories  of  the  Lamb  ! 

On  His  throne  of  radiant  azure, 
High  above  all  heights  He  reigns — 
Eeigns  amidst  immortal  pleasure, 
While  refulgent  glory  flames ; 

How  diffusive 
Shines  the  golden  blaze  around  ! 

All  the  heavenly  powers  adore  Him, 
Circling  round  his  orient  seat ; 
Eansom'd  saints  with  angels  vying, 
Loudest  praises  to  repeat ; 

How  exalted 
Is  His  praise,  and  how  profound  I 

Every  throne  and  every  mansion. 
All  ye  heavenly  arches  ring  ; 
Echo  to  the  Lord  salvation, 
Glory  to  our  glorious  King  ! 


Appendix,  3^7 

Boundless  praises 
All  ye  heavenly  orbs  resound. 

Praise  be  to  the  Father  given, 
Praise  to  the  Incarnate  Son, 
Praise  the  Spirit,  one  and  Seven, 
Praise  the  mystic  Three  in  One  ; 

Hallelujah ! 
Everlasting  praise  be  Thine  ! 


APPENDIX  (Page  120). 
BOCK  OF  AGES— In  Latin. 

BY  W.   E.   GLADSTONE. 

Jesus,  pro  me  perforatus, 
Condar  intra  Tuum  latus, 
Tu  per  IjTnpham  profluentem, 
Tu  per  sanguinem  tepentem. 
In  peccata  me  redunda, 
ToUe  culpam,  sordes  munda. 

Coram  Te,  nee  Justus  forem 
Quamvis  tota  si  laborem, 
Nee  si  fide  nunquam  cesso, 
Fletu  stillans  indefesso : 
Tibi  soli  tantum  munus  ; 
Salva  me,  Salvator  unus ! 

Nil  in  manu  mecum  fero, 

Sed  me  versus  crucem  gero  ; 

Vestimenta  nudus  oro, 

Opem  debilis  imploro ; 

Fontem  Christi  quaero  immundus 

Nisi  laves,  moribundus. 

Dum  hos  artus  vita  regit ; 
Quando  nox  sepuichro  tegit ; 
Mortuos  cum  stare  jubes, 
Sedens  Judex  inter  nubes ; 
Jesus,  pro  me  perforatus, 
Condar  intra  Tuum  latus. 


3i8  Appendix, 

APPENDIX  (Page  236). 

From  the  "  Memoirs  of  Howard,  compiled  from  his  diary,  his 
confidential  letters,  and  other  authentic  documents,  by  James 
Baldwin  Brown,"  it  appears  that  in  the  year  1755,  on  a  voyage  to 
Portugal,  the  vessel  in  which  he  was,  was  captured  by  a  French 
privateer,  and  carried  into  Brest,  where  he  and  the  other  pas- 
isengers,  along  with  the  crew,  were  cast  into  a  filthy  dungeon,  and 
there  kept  a  considerable  time  without  nourishment.  There  they 
lay  for  six  days  and  nights.  The  floor,  with  nothing  but  straw 
upon  it,  was  their  sleeping  place.  He  was  afterwards  removed  to 
Morlaix,  and  thence  to  Carpaix,  where  he  was  two  months  upon 
parole.  At  the  latter  place  "he  corresponded  with  the  English 
prisoners  at  Brest,  Morlaix  and  Dinnan  ;  and  had  sufficient  evi- 
dence of  their  being  treated  with  such  barbarity  that  many  hun- 
dreds had  perished  ;  and  that  thirty-six  were  buried  in  a  hole  at 
Dinnan  in  one  day." 

Through  his  benevolent  and  timely  interference  on  their  behalf, 
when  he  himself  had  regained  his  freedom,  the  prisoners  of  war 
in  these  three  prisons  were  released  and  sent  home  to  England 
in  the  first  cartel  ships. 

Till  the  year  1773  it  does  not  appear  that  he  was  actively  en- 
gaged in  any  philanthropic  work  on  behalf  of  prisoners.  In  the 
year  1730  there  had  been  a  commission  of  enquiry  in  the  House 
of  Commons  on  the  state  of  prisons,  and  condition  of  their  in- 
mates, but  nothing  seems  to  have  followed  from  it,  and  it  was 
not  till  March,  1774,  when  Howard  received  the  thanks  of  the 
House  for  the  information  which  he  communicated  to  them  on 
the  subject,  that  the  great  work  assumed  shape.  In  1773,Tiaving 
been  appointed  sheriff  of  Bedford,  the  distress  of  prisoners  came 
under  his  notice.  He  engaged  himself  in  a  most  minute  inspec- 
tion, and  the  consequence  was  the  devotion  of  every  faculty  of 
his  existence  to  the  correction  of  the  abuses  existing  in  similar 
institutions  as  the  friend  of  those  who  had  no  friend. 

In  that  Christlike  work  he  continued  till  his  death,  on  20th  Jan- 
uary, 1790,  at  Cherson,  Eussian  Tartary,  having  in  the  meantime 
inspected  prisons  in  England,  Scotland  and  Ireland,  France, 
Holland,  Flanders,  Germany,  Switzerland,  Italy,  Sweden,  Po- 
land, Portugal,  Spain,  the  Netherlands,  Malta,  Turkey,  Prussia 
and  Bussia. 


Appendix.  319 

APPENDIX  (Page  253). 

At  Michaelmas  time,  1791,  Mr.  Buchanan  was  admitted  a  mem- 
ber of  Queen's  College,  Cambridge,  having  left  London  on  the 
2ith  October.  He  was  then  25  years  of  age.  In  consequence  of 
a  letter  from  his  mother  he  attended  the  preaching  of  John  New- 
ton, with  whom  he  kept  up  a  correspondence  when  at  college. 
In  one  of  his  replies  to  Mr.  Newton  he  wrote:  "You  ask  me 
whether  I  would  prefer  preaching  the  Gospel  to  the  fame  of 
learning  ?  Ay,  that  would  I,  gladly,  were  I  convinced  it  was  the 
will  of  God,  that  1  should  depart  this  night  for  Nova  Zembla,  or 
the  Antipodes,  to  testify  of  Him.  I  would  not  wait  for  an  admit 
or  a  college  exit."  Some  time  in  the  year  1794,  the  first  proposal 
appears  to  have  been  made  to  him  to  go  out  to  India,  and  on  this 
occasion  he  wrote  Mr.  Newton,  saying,  "I  have  only  time  to  say, 
that  with  respect  to  my  going  to  India,  I  must  decline  giving  an 
opinion.  *  *  *  It  is  with  great  pleasure  I  submit  this  matter 
to  the  determination  of  yourself  and  Mr.  Thornton  and  Mr. 
Grant  All  I  wish  to  ascertain  is  the  Avill  of  God."  In  a  subse- 
quent letter  he  wrote,  "  I  am  equally  ready  to  preach  the  Gospel 
in  the  next  village,  or  at  the  end  of  the  earth." 

After  taking  his  degree  of  B.A.,  he  was  ordained  a  deacon  by 
the  Bishop  of  London  on  20th  September,  1795,  when  he  be- 
came Mr.  Newton's  curate,  which  he  held  till  March,  1796,  when 
he  was  appointed  one  of  the  chaplains  to  the  East  India  Com- 
pany. Soon  after,  he  received  priest's  orders,  and  on  11th 
August,  1796,  sailed  from  Portsmouth,  England,  for  Calcutta, 
where  he  landed  10th  March,  1797.  In  May  following  he 
proceeded  to  the  military  station  of  Barackpore.  But  it  was  not 
till  the  beginning  of  the  present  century  that  he  fairly  devel- 
oped his  plans  for  the  extension  of  the  Redeemer's  Kingdom  in 
India. — From  Memoirs  of  Bev.  Claudius  Buchanan. 


APPENDIX  (Page  254). 

In  the  month  of  September,  1794,  a  paper  was  pubHshed  in  the 
Evangelical  Magazine,  urging  the  formation  of  a  mission  to  the 
heathen  on  the  broadest  possible  basis.    The  writer  of  that  paper 


320  Appendix, 

was  the  Rev.  David  Bogue,  D.D.,  of  Gosport,  Hampshire,  and 
two  months  after  its  appearance  a  conference,  attended  by  repre- 
sentatives from  several  Evangelical  bodies,  was  held  to  take 
action  in  the  matter.  The  result  was  an  address  to  ministers 
and  members  of  various  churches,  and  the  appointment  of  a 
committee  to  diffuse  information  upon  the  subject.  Thereafter, 
and  in  September,  1795,  a  large  and  influential  meeting,  extend- 
ing over  three  days,  at  which  the  Rev.  Dr.  Harris  preached  from 
Mark  xv:  16,  and  the  Rev.  J.  Burder  and  the  Rev.  Rowland  Hill 
and  many  others  took  part.  At  that  meeting  the  society  was 
formed,  and  it  was  resolved,  with  reference  to  its  agents  and 
their  converts,  "  That  it  should  be  entirely  left  with  those  whom 
God  might  call  into  the  fellowship  of  His  Son  among  them,  to 
assume  for  themselves  such  a  form  of  church  government  as  to 
them  shall  appear  most  agreeable  to  the  Word  of  God." 

The  Rev.  David  Bogue,  D.D.,  has  therefore  well  been  styled 
"the  father  and  founder  "  of  the  institution. 


APPENDIX  (Page  256). 

At  a  meeting  held  in  Leeds,  5th  October,  1813,  it  was  resolved 
to  constitute  a  society  to  be  called  "The  Methodist  Missionary 
Society  for  the  Leeds  District,"  of  which  branches  were  to  be 
formed  in  the  several  circuits,  whose  duty  it  should  be  to  collect 
subscriptions  in  behalf  of  missions  and  to  remit  them  to  an 
already  existing  committee  in  London.  It  was  from  this  point 
that,  by  general  consent,  the  origin  of  the  Wesleyan  Missionary 
Society  is  reckoned. 


INDEX. 


PAGES. 

Academy,  Doddridge's 29 

* '        Lady  Huntingdon's, 
257 

Aftermath 260 

Age  before  the  Revival,  The.  32 

Albert,  Prince 120 

Alleine,  Eev.  Joseph 197 

Allen,  Ebenezer,  Governor  of 

Martha's  "Vineyard 226 

America,  Awakening  in. .  .28,  73, 
85,  281 
American  Baptist  Missionary 

Union 256 

American  Board  of  Commis- 
sioners for  Foreign  Mis- 
sions  255,  256 

American  Revival. 28,  73,  85,  281 
"       Sunday-school  Un- 
ion  256 

Amusements 15 

Anabaptists 52 

Ancaster,  Duchess  of. 37,  41 

Anecdotes,  17-20,  37,  39,  41,  52, 
54,  56,  58,  60,  69,  70,  72, 
76,82-84,87,89,94,96,100, 
103, 109,  112,  113,  115,  116, 
125,  129,  130,  133-135,  137, 
138,  140,  143-145,  148,  151, 
153, 158,  159,  161,  166,  172, 
177, 183,  194,  198,  200,  202, 
218,  234,  236,  239,  243,  245, 
247,  255,  256,  266,  288,  291, 
293,  294,  298,  300,  301 

Aram,  Eugene 147 

Armenianism 60 

Ai-rests 102 

Atheism,  Prevalence  of 15 

Austrian  Exiles  28 

Baptist  Missionary  Society. .  250 
"               "        Union, 
American 256 


Band  Meetings,  etc.,  Origin 

of 100 

Basle  Evangelical  Mission. .  .256 

Baynham,  James 195 

Baxter,  Richard 266 

Benson,  Bishop 69,  70 

Bernard  of  Clairvaux 114 

"      Cluny 114 

Berridge,  John,  150, 157, 169, 177, 
270 
Bible,  The,  the  Power  of  God, 

7,  279,  286 

"       "    Reverenced 277 

"       "    Translated  for  In- 
dia  253 

Bible  Society,  The.. 186, 189, 191, 
256 

Blomfield,  Bishop 18 

Bloomfield 197 

Blossoms  in  the  Wilderness .  .180 

Bogue,  David 254,  257, 320 

Bolingbroke,  Lord...  .41,  60,  180 

Borlase,  Dr 102 

Boston  in  1730 232 

"     Elm 275 

"     State  of  Society  in. . .  .282 

Braddock,  Joseph 

Bradford,  Joseph 138 

Britain's  Obligations  to  Mis- 
sions for  India 254 

British  and  Foreign  School 

Society 256 

British  Quarterly 52,  92 

Bronte  Family 160 

Bruised  Beed 266 

Buchanan,  Claudius 178,  190 

253,  254,  319 
Buckingham,  Duchess  of.  .38, 39 

Bunyan,  John 160 

Burke,  Edmund 236 

Butler,  Bishop 22 


322 


Index, 


Byron 117 

Calvin's  Institutes 61 

Calvinistic  Methodists 101 

Campbell,  John 178, 190 

Captains    of  Ships    in    18th 

Century 221,224 

Cardigan,  Lady 42 

Carey,  William. 250 

Carlyle,  Thomas 28,  305 

Cennick,  John 123 

Chatsworth 49 

Cheerfulness  and  Joy  Signifi- 
cant of  Revival.  .98,  99,  101, 
109, 121 

Chesterfield,  Lord 41,  180 

Christian  Remembrances 123 

"  Christian  World  Unmasked, 

The;  Fray  Come  and  Feep, '\15S 
Christianity,  Eflect  of. . .  .98,  ISi 

Chrysostom 52 

Church  of  England,  Evangeli- 
cal Party  in 269 

"        Religion  in    15,18,253 
"        Disabilities  against 

Members  of 258 

"        Opposition  to  Meth- 
odism  99 

"        Opposition  to  Revi- 
val  22,  70,  156, 

159, 172, 270 
"        South  ey     on      the 

Clergy  of  the....  308 
Church  Signs  and  Counter- 
signs   99 

Church's,  Rev.  Thomas,  De- 
nunciation of  Evil 21 

Chubbs 180 

Church  Missionary  Society.  .255 

City  Road  Chapel 91 

Clapham  Sect 184,  189,  19.1 

Clarkson,  Thomas. 190 

Clergy,  Corruption  of 18 

Coates,  Alexander 153 

Colman,  Dr.,  Testimony  of.  .285 

Colliers,  The 75 

Collins 180 

Colston,  Edward 218 

Colston's  School,  Bristol 218 

Compton,  Adam 198 

Congregationalism 170 


PAGES. 

Controversalists  of  Revival. . 

117,  119 

Conversions... 219,  234,  288,258, 

266,  267,  284, 290 

Cornwall -.116,  131,  171 

Cottage  Visitation 50 

Cowper,  William. .  .126,  178,  207, 
211 
Cradle  of  London  Method- 
ism   91 

Crime  in  18th  Century. .  14, 16, 21, 
242 

Criminals,  Condition  of 200, 

237,  239,  244 
Criminal  Law  in  18th    Cen- 
tury. .14, 237,  242,  244,  247,  248, 
259 

Danish  Hymns 131 

"      Missionary  Society. .  .250 

Darknes*s  before  Dawn 7, 107 

Dawn,  First  Streaks  of 24 

Deaf  and  Dumb  Asylum 258 

Defoe 177,216 

Deism,  Prevalence  of 15 

Derby,  Earl  of 129 

Dissenters,  Disabilities  of.. .  .258 
Dissent  in,  Boston,  in  1730.  .232 
Divine  authority  of  the  New 

Testament,  The 255 

Doddridge,  Philip. .  .28,  81,  110, 
113,  126,  267 

"        his  Academy 29 

"        his  Eriends 86,58 

"        his  Hymns... . 29' 

Drawing-Room  Preaching  .  37, 
38,40 

Effect  of 43 

Drury  Lane 155 

Dying  Words. .  .169,  261,  262,  300 

East  India  Company 191 

Economy  of  Charity 210 

Edinburgh  Bediew.  ...69, 184,  253 

Education,  Neglect  of 16 

"         Spreading 257 

Edwards,  Jonathan.  .28,  275,283, 
296 
Effect  of  Rejection  of  Gospel,    7 
Eighteenth  Century  Revival, 

9,277 
Emerson,  quoted 12 


Index, 


323 


England   and  Prance    Con- 
trasted  23,  180 

England,    State   of   Keligion 

in 23 

Epitaphs 156,  197,  212,  268 

Episcopal  Board  of  Missions, 

Methodist 256 

"        Protestant 256 

Epworth 43,  53,  94,97 

Essays  on  Ecclesiastical  Bi- 
ography  184 

Everton 156 

Excitement  of  the  Revival ...  68 
Executions  at  Tyburn  in  1738,  14 

Exiles  in  England 28 

Experiences  of  Christiana  ex- 
pressed in  Song 128 

Eyre,  Jane 160 

Fair  Preaching 83 

Fen  wick,  Michael 137 

Ferrars,  Lady 40 

Field  Preaching.  .68,  89, 101, 104 
First  Day  or  Sunday-school 

Society 256 

Flaxley 197 

Fletcher  of  Madsley 149 

Florence 7 

Foote,  the  Actor 154 

Founders  of  London  Mission- 
ary Society 254 

Foundry,  TheMoorfields 91 

France 7,  180 

Free  Church  of  England 101 

French    Protestants  in  Eng- 
land   25 

Fry,  Elizabeth 237,  258,  278 

Gambold,  John 50,  64 

Garrick,  David 155, 172 

George  II 181 

George  IV 158 

Gerhardt,  Paul 113 

German  Empire 7 

"        Hymns 131 

Germain,  Lady  Betty 41 

Gisborne,  Thomas 192 

Gladstone,  W.  E 119,  317 

Gloucestershire 183, 193,  213 

God's    Method   of  Diffusing 

the  Truth 12,  13 

Goethe 28,  305 


PAGES. 

Goldsmith 21 

Gospel  Preached  in  Song.. .  .114 

Grant,  James 126 

"      Sir  Robert 192 

Gregory,  Alfred 196 

Greenfield,  Edward 102 

Griggs,  Joseph .126 

Grimshaw,  William 160, 169, 

178,  270 

Guthrie,  Dr 158 

Gwennap  Pit 103,  275 

Haime,  John 151 

Hamilton,  Duchess  of 41 

"         Lady  Elizabeth...  243 

"         Sir  William 179 

Hardcastle,  Joseph 191 

Hardships 221 

Harris,  Howell 272 

Harvard  College,  Religion  in,285 

Hastings,  Lady  Margaret.  .170, 

171 

Haweis,  Thomas 254 

Haworth 160 

Haymarket  Theatre 154 

Heimsley 119 

Herbert,  George 110 

Hervey,  James 50,  57,  60 

"  "      Writings  63 

Hey,  James   (Old  Jemmie  o' 

the  Hey) 198 

Hill,  Rowland.  .120,  159,  170,  254 

Holy  Club,  The. .  .51,  54,  57,  60, 

65,  170 

"     Spirit,  The,  the  Power..  85 

Hooper,  John 195 

Hopper,  Christopher 151 

Home,  Dr 66 

Hospitality  in  New  England.. 225, 

229,  231 

Hostility  to  Revival.  ..21,32,  61, 

77,  288 

Howard,  John 236,  318 

Hymns. . .  .115, 118, 119, 122, 125- 
130,  203  311,  313 

"      Character  of 127, 131 

"      Influence  of. .  .98,  99, 101, 
109,  112,  129 

"      of  Doddridge 29,110 

"      of  Watts 29,31,110 

«      of  Wesley 112 


324 


Index, 


PAGES. 

Hynmists  of  the  Revival. . .  .109, 
121, 123,  126, 192 

Huddersfield 169 

Huguenots,  The 24, 98 

"       Descendants       i  n 

England 26 

"       Influence    on    Re- 
vival  26 

"       Settlement  in  Eng- 
land  26 

Huntingdon,  Lady,  20,  35,  46,  50, 
el,  66,  69,  91,  101, 124, 135, 
143,  148,  155, 159, 169, 172, 
183,  254,  257,  261,  307 

Huntingdon,  William 276 

Hupton,  Job 127 

Ind!ependent8 256 

Indians,  Cause  of,  Espoused 

by  Whitefield 290 

Ingham,  Benjamin 50, 170 

Itinerancy,  by  Wesley 93 

Itinerant  Preachers 116,  160 

Jay,  William 184 

Jenner,  Dr.  Edward 195 

Johnson,  Samuel 65 

Joss,  Toriel 149 

Juvenal 52 

Kempis,  Thomas  A- 55,  59 

Kingsbury,  William 254 

Kirk,  John,  Author  of  "  Mo- 
ther of  the  Wesleya  " 44 

Lackington 154 

Lancashire 131 

"         Independent  Col- 
lege  257 

LanternSjNew  Lights  and  Old  48 

Lavington,  Bishop 70 

Law,  William 53 

Lay  Preaching. . .  .132, 136,  139, 
147-149, 151 
Lecky  on  the  Effect  of  the 

Revival 10 

Lee,  Jesse 275 

Literature,  State  of,  at  begin- 
ning of  18th  Century.  How 
Affected  by  Revival. . .  .16,  269 

Livingstone 255 

Local  Preachers 136 

"       Wesley's    Reasons 

for 136 


PAGES. 

London  Missionary  Society. .  191, 

254,  255,  319 

Love  of  Souls.  ..101,  185,  186,  281 

Luther 7,  57, 110,  114, 179 

Lyttleton,  Lord 17,  40,  42 

Macaulay 86,  97,  99, 189 

"        Tribute  to  Puri- 
tans  9,  97,  303-305 

McOwan,  Peter 130 

Mann,  Sir  Horace 40 

Manstield,  Lord 172 

Marlborough,  Duchess  of.  37,  39, 
42 

Marshman  and  Ward 253 

Martyrs 195 

Maxfield,  Thomas 115, 134 

Melcombe,  Lord 42 

Methodism 182,  257,  275, 278 

"         in  New  England.  .275 
Methodists  acknowledged..  .177, 
256 
"         and  Puritans 

Compared 98 

Methodists  and  Quakers. . .  ..278 
Methodist    Band    Meetings, 

etc 100 

Methodist  Episcopal  Mission- 
ary Society 256 

Methodists,  Beginning  of,  45,  52, 
80,  91 
■ "         Calvinistic     and 

Wesleyan 101 

Methodists,  Creed  of 100 

"       Early 98,102,309 

Effect  of 35,129 

' «       Efforts  of  Earliest .  257 
"       Expelled  from  Ox- 
ford  66 

"        Growth  of. 40,170 

«       in  United  States...  275 
"        Held  as   Opposed 
to  Church  of  Eng- 
land...  .66,  70,  94, 99 

•'       Hymnals 32 

"        Manifestations  of. .  85 

"        Origin  of  Name 52, 

60,  309 
"        Regarded  as  Ene- 
mies. . .  .21, 70, 94,  99, 
139,143,144,233,309 


Index. 


325 


PAGES. 

Methodists,  Sects  of 276 

Middleton 180 

Milton 110 

Minor,  The 154 

Mission  Enterprises .  186, 250, 256 

"       toMrica 191,255 

««       toCliina 255 

«       to  India 190,253 

"       to  Madagascar 255 

*'       to  South  Seas 255 

Missionary  Societies 250, 256, 

320 

Moffat,  Robert 191,  255 

Moliere 155 

Montague,  Duchess  of 42 

Montgomery,  James 118 

Moorfields,  London.  .SI,  91,  134, 
149,  233 
Morality  at  Beginning  of  18th 

Century 16 

Moravians,  The.  .35,  64, 113, 170, 
250,  256 

More,  Hannah 178,  210 

Morgan 50 

Mystery  of  Life,  The 65 

Napoleon  at  St.  Helena 255 

Nash,    Beau,    Overcome    by 

Wesley 87 

Nelson,  John 139 

Netherlands  Missionary 

Society 256 

Newman,  John  Henry 269 

Newton,  John.  .123, 126, 149, 174, 
190,  216,  217,  270 

Noel,  Baptist 259 

Nonconformists,  Beligiou 

Among 15 

Oliver,  John 115 

Olivers,  Thomas.115, 125, 311, 313 

One-eyed  Christians 183 

Orphan  Asyliim  in  Georgia.  .291, 
296 

Oxford 48,65 

"      Forecasting  Future  of 

Union 48 

Oxford  Methodists 49 

"      Society 54 

Parson,  John 151 

Perronet,  Edward 125 

Persecution. . .  .102,  139, 143,  270 


PAGES. 

Philadelphia  Adult  and  Sun- 
day-school Union 256 

Pilgrim's  Progress,  The 219, 

236 

Pitt,  William 42,  266 

Politics  Influenced  by  Revi- 
val  258 

Pope 38 

Portraits  of  Revivalists .  .154,  271 

Power  of  Song 114 

Fractical   View  of  Lhristian- 

ity 266,  267 

Prayer 102 

Preacher  and  Robbers,  The .  .151 
Preaching    at   Beginning   of 

18th  Century.  ...  61 

"        byLa>-men...  132, 136, 

139,147,  148,  149,  151 

"        in  Drawing-Room .  .37, 

38,40 

"       Effectof.  .7,98,99, 101, 

107, 139, 143 

Prejudices    Against  Lay 

Preachers 132 

Prison  Philanthrophy.  .199,  217, 
234, 236,  241,  246,  248,  258,  318 
Promoting  Christian  Knowl- 
edge, Society  for 250 

Propagation  of  Gospel,  So- 
ciety for,  in  New  England.. 250 
Propagation   of  Gospel,  So- 
ciety for,  in  Foreign  Parts.. 250 
Protestant  Episcopal  Board 

of  Missions .256 

Puritans,  The 8,  9, 35,  52, 98, 

303,  305 
"        Macaulay's  e  s  t  i  - 

mateof....9,  97,  303 
"        and     Methodists 

Compared 98 

Quakers,  The 35,  231,  278 

Quarterly  Beuiew 125, 126 

Quietists 55 

Quixote,  the  Spiritual 154 

Raikes,  Anne 213 

Raikes,  Robert 183, 193,  194, 

196,  201,  211,  214 
«        at  Windsor....  202,  208 
"        House  at  Glouces- 
ter  213 


326 


Index, 


Eaymont  of  Pegnafort 93 

Beciprocation    the    Soul    of 

Methodism 100 

Redruth,  Cornwall .103 

Reformation,  The 8 

Reign  of  Terror 181 

Rejection  of  Gospel,  its  Effect 

on  Nations 7 

Religion,  State  of  at  Begin- 
ning of  18th  Cen- 
tury... 10,  22,  23,107 
"  State  of  and  After 
Revival  Contrast- 
ed  13,  277 

Religious  Tract  Society..  191,  256 
Repeal  of  Test  and  Corpora- 
tion Acts 258 

Revival,  The,  Anecdotes  of. 
(See  Anecdotes.) 

Revival  Beacons , 184 

"        Becomes      Educa- 
tional.. .193,  257,  278 
"       Beginning  of.  ..24,28, 
35,  39,  49,  57, 
73,  181,  186 
"        Cheerfulness     and 

Joy  of. . .  .98,  99,  101, 
109,  124 

"        Conservative 86 

"       .Dawn  of 24,48,49 

"       Depth  of 277 

"       Done  Most  for  Well- 
being  of  Mankind. 280 
"       Effect    on    Litera- 
ture  260 

"       Effect  of  on  World 

at  Large.... 279,  293 
"        Effects  of.8, 10, 13, 107, 
115,  129,  132,  147,  166, 
171,  180,  183, 18tJ,  258, 
259,  260,  269,  277,  279, 
285,  293,  296,  300 
"       Evangelical  in  Eng- 
land  8,  271 

"        Fair  Preaching 83 

«        Field  Preaching... 68, 
89, 101, 104 
"        Foremost      Names 

in  .. 46,154 

«        Fruit  of 180,186 


PAGES. 

Revival,  Growth  of 73,  265 

"  Hostilityto..21,  22,  32, 
61,  77,  94, 102, 154, 156, 
159, 172,  2a8,  298 

*'        Importance  of 10 

"       in  Wales 272 

"  inAmerica.  .275,  281, 
288,  295,  300 

"        at  Kingswood 77 

"  Lay  Preaching  .  .  .132, 
135,  139,  147, 
148,  149, 151 

"        Sects  Formed 276 

"        Singers  of. . . .  109, 121, 
123,  126,  192,  310 

"        Spiritual 114,285 

Revivalist  Portraits 154,  271 

Richmond  Legh 267 

Ridicule  of  Revivalists..l54,  253, 

298 

Rise  and  Progress  in  the  Soul.267 

Ritual  Absent  in  Revival 114 

Rock  of  Ages 119 

Rockingham,  Lady 40 

Rogers'   Lives   of     Early 

Preachers 151 

Romaine,  WiUiam 149, 172 

Roman  Catholics. . .  .133, 145,  193 

Romelly,  Sir  Samuel 26 

Romish  Stories  and  Incidents 

in  Work  of  Wesley 133, 145 

Romney,  Earl 259 

Rosary,  The 99 

Rowlands .272 

Sabbath  Observance 17,  229 

Sacred  Song,  Power  of.  .109, 113, 

127 

Sailors'  Hardships,  etc.  .221,224, 

240 

Saints  Everlasting  Best 267 

Salvation  by  Grace  the  Grand 
Doctrine  of  the  Revival ...  60, 
186,  270,  284 

Sandwich  Islands 255 

Sandys 110 

Sarton,  William 195 

Saunderson,  Lady  Frances. .  37 

Savonarola 7 

Schools,  Sunday 16, 196-199, 

201.  204 


Index, 


327 


PAGES. 

School,  Sunday,   Commend- 
ed  207,208 

"         Effect  of. 201,215 

"         First  Day  or  Society  256 
"         Growth  of.  208,  209, 215 

Scott,  Captain  Jonathan 149 

"      Thomas 269 

«      Walter,  Sir 117 

Sects    Rising  from  Revival : 
Bible     Christians   of 

West  of  England.... 276 
Primitive      Methodists 

of  the  North 276 

New  Connection  Meth- 
odists   276 

United    Free    Church 

Association 276 

Selborne,  Lord,  Referred  to. .  125 

Sharp,  Granville 190 

Shaw,  Robert 169 

Ships  of  18th  Century 220 

Shirley,  Lady  Fanny 64 

"        Mr.  (Lady  Hunting- 
don's Cousin) 20 

Sidney,  Sir  PhiUp 110 

Simeon,  Charles 269 

Singers  of  the  Revival.  .109, 121, 

123, 126,  192,  310 

Slave  Abolition.. .  .186,  211,  265, 

Smiles,  Dr.,  referred  to 24 

Smith,  Adam 207 

"      Sydney 184,253 

Society,  State  of,  at  beginning 

of  18th  Century.  .10, 
16,  24,  75, 277,  282,  294 
"        State  of  and  after 
Revival,     C  o  n  - 

trasted 13,277 

Somerset,  Duchess  of 36 

Songs  Used  in  Great  Nation- 
al Movements 109 

Southey. .  .71,  83,  89,  93, 115, 130, 
133,  146,  147, 157, 166,  249, 
276,  308 

Spain 7 

Spencer 52 

St.  Ambrose 117 

St.  Ann's,  Black  Friars,  Lon- 
don  174 


PAGES. 

St.     George's,    Hanover 

Square,  London 172 

Stage  Libels  against  the  Re- 
vivalists  154 

Staniforth,  Sampson 151 

Stanhope,  Earl,  Testimony  to 

Wesley 10 

Starting  Point,  The,  of  Mod- 
ern Religious  History 181 

Steam  Engine,  The 12 

Steele,  Miss 126 

Stephen,  Sir  James.  .83, 184, 191, 
192,  269 

"       Sir  George 192 

Stevens,  Dr.  Abel  . .  .27,  83, 182, 
216,  249,  262,  300 

Stocker,  John 127 

Stock,  Thomas 204 

Story,  George 147 

Stratford,  Joseph 196 

Streaks  of  Dawn,  First 24 

Suffolk,  Countess  of 40 

Swedenborg 276 

Swedish  Missionary  Society.  .250 

Taylor,  Isaac 45,  83, 128 

Teachers,  Character  of  at  Be- 
ginning of  18th  Century. . .  17 

TeDeum 114 

Teignmouth,  Lord 189, 254 

Tennent,  Gilbert.  ...286,  287,  290 

"  Tiie  Last  Judgment" 118 

Thomson,  Mr.,  The  Vicar  of 

St.Gennys 70 

Thornton,  John 190 

Ticket,  The 99 

Told,  Silas 216,257 

'*      "    his  Preaching  and 

his  Work 235 

Toleration  Act 258 

Toplady,  Augustus 119, 121 

Tottenham  Court  Chapel.  ...120, 
150 

Townshend,  Lady 37 

"  John 268 

"  Lord 42 

Tractarian  Movement,  The..  48 

Tract  Societies 186, 191 

Trevisa,  John  De 193 

Trimmer,  Sarah,  Mrs 209 

Trophies  of  Revival 115 


328 


Index. 


PAGES. 

Turnpikes  in  England 93 

Tyerman,  Mr.,  referred  to.. .  27, 
43,  2i9 

Tyndale,  William 183, 193 

Venn,  Henry 169 

Vicar  of  Wakefield. ..  21,  267,  305 

Voltaire 51,  180 

Wales 272 

Walker,  Samuel 171 

Walpole,  Horace.  ..39,  43,  79,  83, 
154 

Walsh,  Thomas 185, 145 

Warburton,  Bishop,  on  Wes- 
ley  .*. 22 

Ward  and  Marshman 253 

Watson,  Eichard 158 

Watt,  James 12 

Watts,  Isaac 29, 110, 122, 128 

"        "     Friends  of. 36 

"        "      his  Mother 26 

"        "      Hymns  of. .  .29, 113 
"        "      Literary  Labors .  .29 

Waugh,  Alexander 254 

Welsh  Preaching  a,nd  Preach- 
ers  275 

Wesleyan  Methodists 101 

"        Missionary  So- 
ciety  256,  320 

Wesleyan  Societies 170,  182 

Wesleyanism,  Historians  of.  .182 
Wesley,  Charles.  ..45,  60,  57, 118, 
121,  128,  265 
Wesley,  John. .  .21,  26,  46,  50,  53, 
80, 92, 122, 136,  165, 179, 
182,  207 
"        as  an  Administra- 
tor    82,  86 

"        and   Church   Poli- 
ty  82,86 

"        andBradford 138 

"        and  Fenwick 137 

*'        and  Nelson 145 

and  Silas  Told....  217, 
233,  237,  249 

"        and  Walsh 146 

"        and  Whitefield 

Compared.69,80,86, 
87,  89,  148 
"        and  Field  Preach- 
ing  89 


FAGXS. 

Wesley,  John,  and  Methodists 
Eegarded  as  Ene- 
mies  21,94,99 

"        and    H  e  r  V  e  y  '  s 

Teaching.. 59 

' '        at  Ep worth, .  43,  63,  94, 
95 
"        at     the     Foundry, 
Moorfields    (City 
Boad  Chapel) ...  91 

"        at  Glasgow 11 

' '        at  Gwennap  Pit 103 

"        at  Oxford 50,53 

"        at  York 96 

"        Compared     with 

Calvin 69 

"        Conversion,Time  of  58 

"        Creed 100 

"        Death  of 262 

"  Early  Religious  Ex- 
periences   53 

"        Effect  of  His  Preach- 
ing on  Himself. .  82 
"         Effect  of  His  Preach- 
ing on  Others.  82,  87, 
96,  114 
"        Estimate  of  by  Ma- 

caulay 86,  89 

"  Expelled  from 
Church  of  Eng- 
land   68,69 

"        Expelled    from 

Oxford 65 

"        Hymns 112,  113, 

114,  124,  126 
"       Influence  of..  10, 26, 182 

"        Itinerancy 93 

"        on  Sabbath  Schools.208 
Parish,  the  World.  91 
"        Power  over  Others  82, 
87,  137 
"        Preaching   in   Ep- 
worth      Church- 
yard   95 

"        liestrictions  on  Lay 

Preachers 134 

"        Tomb 262 

"        Translations 113 

"        Victory     of,     over 

Nash 87 


Index. 


329 


PAGES. 

Wesley,  Samuel 43,  53 

«        Susannah M,  134 

"  "       her  Sayings. 45 

Weston,  Favel 58,  62 

Wilberforce,  William..  .178, 189, 
191,  254, 258,  265,  266 

Wilderness,  Blossoms  in 180 

Wilks,  Matthew 254 

Winter,  Cornelius 184,  257 

Wiseman,  Cardinal 131 

White,  Rev.  George,  Vicar  of 

Colne 71 

Whitefield,  George. . .  .32,  46,  52, 
60,  69,  73,  86, 122,  148,  165, 
179,  184,  195,  258,  270,  284 
«        and  the  Children..  292 
"       Among  the  Indians.  290 
"       and  the  Poor  Wo- 
man   56 

«       and  Wesley   Com- 
pared  69,  80,  86, 

87,  89, 148 
"        and  the  Eecruiting 

Sergeant 84 

"  Among  the  Nobil- 
ity  36,38,41,79 

"        Among  the  Roughs, 

83,  115 
* '        at  Boston,New  Eng- 
land  284,  285 

"        at  Cambridge,  New 

England 28 

"        at  Harvard 285 

' '  at  Kingswood,  Bris- 
tol .^ 73 

«        at  Princeton 290 

"        at  Gloucester 73 

"        at  New  Haven 285 

"        at  Oxford 49,54 

"        at    the    Tower   of 

London 73 

"        Compared  with 

Luther 69 

"  Description  of  his 
Preaching  Dur- 
ing   Thunder 

Storm 79 

«  Early  Religious  Ex- 
perience   55 


PAGES. 

Whitefield,  George,  Effect  of 
his  Preachiag  on 
Himself  ..80,  81,294 
"        Effect  on  Others. . .  .43, 
76,  79,  82-84,  87,  115, 
284,  294,  295,  301 
"       First    Meeting 

Charles  Wesley..  56 

"       in  Georgia 291 

"        Journeys 281 

in  New  York 288 

"       in  America.. 73, 85,  281 

"      .in  Wales 272 

"        in  London 81 

"       in  Maryland 290 

"  in  Moorfields,  Lon- 
don   84 

«        in  Philadelphia....  289 
"        on  Toriel  Joss  and 

Newton 149 

"        Preachingof.  ..73,  295 
"       on  Religion    in 

America 299 

"        Orphan  Asylum  in 

Georgia 291,296 

"  Regarded  as  a  Fa- 
natic  83 

"        Ridiculed 154 

"  The  First  in  the 
Opening  of  the 
Methodist  Move- 
ment   80 

"  Treatment  of  Those 
Who  Opposed 
Themselves      to 

Him 78,  298 

«       Watts' Blessing  of..  32 
Williams,    John    (Martyr   of 

Erromanga) 255 

Woolston • .  •  -IJS 

Work  Done  in  the  Revival... .  66 

Wvclif,  John •  •  -193 

Xavier,  Francis 93 

York,  Wesley  at .96 

Yorkshire 131,  139, 160, 170 

Yorkshire,  Apostles  of 139 

Young  Cottager,  The 267 

Zinzendorf,    Count,    Hymns 
Of 113,171 


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1012  01060  Q772_\i^Pjg 


DATE  DUE 

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Demco,  Inc.  38-293 


